I find myself in the breath of autumn
dancing below the bellowing pines,
they, indifferent to my presence.
I blow air into the wind, it comes back to me
like the boomerang I flew in July.
In a glance, I catch the shape of dust waltzing
in a light that drapes through the trees.
The simplicity of the oaks sustain.
Trees dress without warning.
Leaves burst, yellow, red, orange.
I shall think of nature’s bounty
And these trees that explode in transformation.
This worn path I took leads me to believe
I shared this walk
with the multitudes.
They too experienced the revolution
And we are the better for it.