11/2/92

AUTUMN

 

Reflections of the earth's most colorful season

The trees put on their formal wear

Glorious burgundies

Blazing reds

Burnt orange

Accented in gold.

Wood smoke filters through the crisp, country air,

The squirrels scatter and hide their nuts.

I come back from these observations and feel

Cold, hard brick under me as I sit.

I get up and note the crunch of the blanket

of leaves under my feet.

It is the only sound I hear,

Walking around the pond.

I look up the hill at the campus.

I see a hand waving.

I slowly meander through the leaves,

and my mind.

Joining Michel on the hill.

He asks if I have written much poetry lately.

No, I say,

I have lived some.

 

Jennifer Kelbaugh