An Autumn

The autumnal colours break the boring grey, vibrant yellows, reds and flame oranges among the dying green. Finger like twigs, point to the coming of the icy blasts, to the north. We ride this spinning rock, what a trip, what a beautiful fall.

They amble along the concrete river while a breath dances between their feet, swirling lazily the leaves that cover the ground. Busy with self importance, the spectacle is lost on this unnatural breed, a veritable paradise to we who would only look. The summer dies a righteous death.

Breaking daylight singes the deep cloud; a slither of warm light touches the broad rim of a hat I bare, so I tip it to expose the flesh of my skull, pale, starved, it soaks nourishment from this scarce resource.

Sensational waves tingle in my mind, shadows vanish, clarity becomes. Worshippers would use this moment to speak of God, artists of inspiration, those that look, an event never to be seen again, like a fleeting glance of a crashing star or the very moment you fell in love, and what a beautiful time to be in love.