The first bright flare of autumn catches my eye toward the top of an old
maple. It's official. In the rear-view mirror the seasons are shifting.
These weeks each day each night a moment's gift luxuriating in the steady
downstream sound of the river with its backdrop of child-drawn pines. I am
just beginning to settle into the theme of trees trees trees as far as the
eye can see. Silence is the soundtrack of this place. I listen to it like
an anthem. Pledge my allegiance past all the old haunts to the highway
south even the road is a ribbon home.
summer's end –
a star falls