Sit, won’t you?
In the fall-away chair
Leaves part their branches
In full delicious beauty
And do not mourn their passing
Fury
Flurry
Red burning tones of autumn
Gold’s boastful shades of sucked up sun
Gone in the breeze
Or a cold snap
Just like that.
Sit, won’t you?
In the fall-away chair
Where what no longer serves
Sheds in a blaze of glory
Where the anthem of letting go
Of a habit, a certain someone, an old convention
Is simply nature’s symphony of change
God’s breath of the breeze that blows the leaves away
Sit, won’t you
In the fall-away chair?