Monday, October 3, 2016

Miss the Fall

When fall came 
And the leaves began their slow change 
I had to remember 
To pay attention. 

The green subtly turning to yellow, 
Until suddenly, 
Whole trees turn a brilliant red. 
Without our permission. 

When did her pants shrink? 
When did her vocabulary grow? 

The oranges are bright this year 
As we drive down these side roads. 
A multi-colored array of beauty 
Some unturned, some almost bare. 

When did she begin to climb so high? 
When did her hair get so long and light? 

We go for walks and talk about the trees. 
The leaves, the river, 
The blanket that crunches 
Under our feet. 

Our jackets are now on chairs. 
The trees out front are empty, 
We take out our boots 
Everything waiting for winter. 

When did she grow so tall? 
When did she learn to sing so clearly? 

Fall is coming to an end. 
Trees now stand naked. 
More brown than color. 
More empty than full. 

Even though I tried. 
To watch each color change. 
I somehow feel, 
I have missed the fall. 

She is completely new 
But still the same. 
Just like the trees,
So strong and brave. 

Next year I must remember 
Not to blink. 
For when I blink. 
I miss it all.