when the birch turn to gold
and the fireweed is topped with
feathery white strands,
when the first snow dusts the peaks,
when darkness sets in early
and stars reveal constellations
named millennia before
by philosophers and poets
when cold touches my nose
and the smell of dying leaves from
cow parsnip to dogwood
fills each breath,
like a clean drink of water,
when the rain taps leaves to the ground
to cover withering berries, melting fungi
time to pull on the boots
drain the hoses
remove the window screens
fluff the down jacket
stack the seasoned firewood
inspect the snow shovel
and add another blanket to the bed.
as the season changes to fall
I mark another year beginning,
remark at the one that has passed,
remember events come and gone
friends who have shared
days in the sun, on a trail,
beside a fire.
summer blinks and we say goodbye
