If I could store away
the beauty of Autumn
like a squirrel collecting nuts,
I could harvest the charity
of nature's grace and beauty.
I could fold away, within
my core, my love for the
easy air and the smell
of sweet forests and burning leaves.
Each icy day of gray Winter
could unravel my bundle
of happiness a little bit
until it was all used up
and Winter was through.
Then Spring could restore me.
It could remind me of warmth
and life and the color of leaves
when they are first birthed
from their mother trees.
Yes, if I could store away
my happiness in Autumn,
the Winter could be easy.