~ Autumn Comes ~

Summer has barely
pressed itself into our bones
when hints of autumn slip through the cracks
of a still day -

a trace of cool in the morning air,
a blush on a leaf ,
a scent from my childhood
of September - school clothes,
wooly sweaters and cords,
burgundy and rust-coloured things,
frosty hayfields, stock still in the early light

Summer has barely
pressed itself into our memory -
with photos of trips still in the camera,
our bathing suits still damp -

when around the rush of summer
a sliver of cool slips through the window,
a first leaf falls slowly, softly,
ever so lightly,
but you can hear it -
a crisp decibel of sound.

Summer has barely begun
when I catch my breath and for a second -
feel the future come rushing in the air.

For me, summer is the present moment -
all now and no stopping -
but something about the first trace of
autumn stills me.
It reminds me of waiting,
of unknown things,
of a not-so-certain next.

Autumn is the future of me,
forgotten momentarily in the summer sun.

It announces itself quietly,
insinuates itself leaf by leaf
until there is no resisting it.
It starts me wondering who I am,
and who shall I be...

when autumn comes.


03 August 06
Terri Price