Musings

Musings


Autumn seems early this year
as scarlet leaves dance,
then fall to the ground
to crinkle and snap underfoot.

It isn't of course. And yet
it seems so as Summer flew past,
Mondays sweeping into weekends
in a blurred collage.

Coffee, not tea, for me this gray day
as I sit cuddled within a soft shawl
wishing a sick friend felt better:
too far away to be of any help.

Perhaps she, as I, will escape
within the hug of a favored read
and there, as leaves and pages turn,
book a trek into another world.