When Comes The Fall...

Sun low and slow across the sky,
Each ray slightly tilted,
As cloud fish fish swim the sky in earnest,
A different tint of azure comes above,
Ancient trees give leaf prayers to the cooling winds,
The amber fields are drawn up and cleaned as we pray thanks,
Birds swirling swarms alight on wires by the mile,
Gold of grasses past their season,
Candles and back yard fires glow as sun falls,
Stars come out and the Hunter rises again,
Hearts turn inward in reflection,
Seeing the season and seasons past,
Wondering at the spectacle of rest before renewal,
All things come in their time,
We remember such grace and grandeur anew,
When comes the Fall.

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/02/2005