Already autumn seasons us, with darts
of scarlet fallen leaves and crispy air.
The nights befall us earlier. It starts
to hint of winter brevity. Compare
the light at 6 PM to just three weeks
ago, and note the recent rain that made
adobe-colored gutter water, leaks
in old garages, rivulets of shade.
Already fall approaches. I should fix
the broken, reinforce the frail, replace
with prudence and prepare myself for six
months on the other side, but I’ve a pace
too skewed right now – intention aimed elsewhere,
exposed to elements of self-repair.
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