Widow Wyile

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Down to Earth

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Down to Earth Widow Wyile

Every autumn the gradual grace
of transformation repeats
trees’ cool summer dress becomes
resplendent evening garb
before even these cloaks are doffed
altogether bright vessels that twirl
and dance through the crisp air
catching updrafts, breezes, gusts
then crinkle and crunch
under passing feet
to bunch together rustling
            in piles
to flotilla upon waterways
to blanket and feed the land
            with reminiscences
            whispers of spring and
summer stories
            airy songs of
                        photosynthesis
                        living breath cycles 

The golds and browns beautiful
yet oranges and reds
catch eyes       turn heads
Acers’ majestic artistry
begins leaf by leaf
branch by branch
mottling    swirling   dappling
            maple signatures
green   orange  yellow  red 

Every autumn the Widow Wyile
marvels at these wonders
as she wanders about
the luminous landscape
outstanding splendours a
blaze upon the azure empyrean