It would be a SHAME to not capture this moment: get out your camera, set up your EASEL, grab some paper and crayons! Fall is on the cusp of sliding into winter.

Georg’ann

So vibrant the leaves, likely gone
by week’s end. Do they BOAST
to one another about their ability
to put on a show, stay the course.
Is that the sound we hear rustling
In the wind? Leaf bravado?
Last cry before their end comes.

If possible to anthropomorphize
the leaves in this uncharacteristic
manner, what else might ARISE
that allows my heart to fully open.
Sending loving kindness toward
bombastic, dangerous “others”.
Tenderly falling across the divide.

Tonight on my EASEL the canvas
is blank. Inviting contemplation.
Swirling thoughts, scattered.
Notions of an enemy remain
as angry incredulity veils ideals.

Clinging to familiar patterns.
Leaves whisper sweet goodbyes.

Heather