Fall Elegy

It’s nearly impossible not to love a day like today.

Who would scorn this brilliant blue sky that invites your eyes to dive into its deepest end?

Who could turn their back to this breeze, that caresses your skin with the barest hint of chill, then sighs like a lover, satisfied?

Who would not wish to gather great armfuls of these scarlet and gold medallions, to drape around their neck?

I suppose there are some who would say ~ it’s too cold, I must rake all these leaves, and besides, winter’s coming soon.

I would say to them, leave all that for tomorrow.

Fall into this beauty, today.

*I started writing this poem on Monday, when the trees were at their most fiery red and gold, the air held a hint of warmth, and a fleece hoodie was warm enough to see you through the day. Sadly, before I even finished writing, the tide had turned. For the past two days, icy cold wind has savagely torn most the scarlet ornaments from the red maples in my yard. Huge flakes of wet snow pelted my windshield yesterday afternoon. I reluctantly unearthed my winter jacket from the storage closet this morning. Before winter sets in earnest, I’m hopeful that fall will make another appearance, at least briefly. I’d like an opportunity to say good-bye.

Advertisements

One thought on “Fall Elegy

  1. Oh, this picture is gorgeous. We share the same hopes of a return to bit more warmth to be able to scoop up those wonderful medallions you’ve described and fling them into the air to fall like rain around us.

    But as usual, our discomfort is a relative things–we could be in Buffalo!

    Have a wonderful weekend, Becca!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s