My New House in the Fall

My New House in the Fall

My snail pace made my move no race,
To move from a home to a house to be a home,

I packed a Pod Unitand made lots of trucks trips
Working three or four days a week, in the afternoon,
A few friends and I packed my housewares and life scraps
And by the time Fall turned to winter,
I learned to keep my house warm,
And when outdoors admired 50 or 60 foot treetops,
In an old neighborhood, my new neighborhood.

Winter often arrives on the sly
In Dallas Texas, and by early December the first freeze had come and gone,
Even to urban areas, and certainly outlying crops got bit.
The former green aura of forestry stripped from my life one day,
Rearragned Into an Instamatic snapshot from the 60s.

I close my eyes on the sepia environment,
Still seeing and hearing the sepia squirrels with their sepia words;
All the color of summer washed away by time, and wind.

Now my beginning green housed aura,
Has put Ansel Adams spectecles over my eyes.
Not the view I was hoping for,
But summer will return again verdent, I know.

I must learn a better appreciation for the winter:
stark, pale, cold, and still.
Yes, like a sepia Ansel Adams picture.
Not what I expected,
but too beautiful in its simplicity
to disdain.