Feeling Fall

Cool and crisp,
these early days of fall
are each one
more lovely than the last.

Yet they stir in me
a melancholy
I cannot name,
but well recognize.

I want to sip warm tea
on the porch, wrapped
in an imaginary sweater,
all olive and yellow,
orange and brown, cozy,
and watch the leaves
begin to turn.

I want to stare off
at the losses I’ve known,
as if they are out there
on the horizon,
aware that
I have survived them all
and I will survive this one, too,
whatever it is.

Seasons change,
joy sometimes
turns to sorrow,
but not forever.

This is, once again,
the end of a season of life
I wasn’t quite ready
to let go of,
a small dying, I suppose.

Another season
will take its place
and I will go on,
Love will adapt,
and this
is the familiar feeling
of fall.

By Maria Brady-Smith
Photo by Mike Smith