Leaves change and fall, crisp,
To the ground.
We put out hay bales and pumpkins,
Drink hot cider and chocolate
And keep our hands in pockets.
We look to the sky and
Feel the cool breezes,
Hide from the rain and cuddle close
By the fireplace
On the couch
In the evenings.
 
We make bonfires,
Roast marshmallows,
Make smores,
Sit outside and stare at the flames.
 
We pull out jackets,
Extend our sleeves,
Look for home.
We rake leaves together,
Spray them apart,
Get lost in corn mazes,
Take hay rides through our memories.
 
We scare ourselves,
Dare ourselves,
To go somewhere with
Some possible danger to it
(If we can find that willing suspension).
 
We eat candy or resist it.
We get lost in these moments
And forget our ways home.
 
And still the leaves fall
On the saints and the sinners,
And the glowing orange faces smile
At us all
As we smile and shiver
Before the chill fully arrives.


© by Bill Abbott.
Used here with the author’s permission.