before the frost

It's late this year;
our grace period extended
by a week or two.
But daylight is noticeably less
and the manic reach and unfurl
has slowed a bit
as we reach this last day
before the frost.



Like so many things
I've been feeling lately;
it is one part mourning a loss,
and one part acceptance;
celebration even



of how far we've come,
and the certainty of change,
the revolution of season
and knowing that things are in balance,
the world as it should be.



We will wake
to a sudden change,
will spend the afternoon
pulling wilted vines down
as the sun warms shoulders
and geese align
and move off together
high overhead.