Fall In An Appreciative New England
Long time since leaves fell within my vision
Tumbling to the gods of the dirt
All dark, earthy and moist
Accepting their festive colored offerings in exchange for replenishment to come
Burning red, yellow, and orange sacrifices waving their spent possibilities
Not like the virgins of the old island cultures but veiny hard workers
Having lived long days collecting the light that would ensure the continuity of eternity
Changing it into that which all us down here could absorb
Us down here, looking up only through them to see the sky and day after day to come and shine
And shine on until we would trample them underfoot without watching.