The colours grab hold of me,
like someone once told me,
and they sink into my being,
seeing Autumn
I fall
into the wonder of it all,
and I melt in the hues,
mixing
reds,greens and browns into blues on
the cold,
stiffening ground.

I am seasoned in this and linger
each year,
a little longer, to kiss the
air that drips with
foreboding,
Winter is loading its gun with ice bullets that fly
and I,
the target,
forget it all
in the wonderful being of being in the fall.