“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are.
Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart.
Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow.
Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so.
One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or
bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or
raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”
~ Mary Jean Iron
i don’t know why
but autumn is so preciously poetic
that in the afternoons
when the light is ripe and golden
all i can do is inhale the autumn
eat it mouthful by mouthful
with my eyes
leaves larger than my hands
gold yellow orange red
i imagine them threaded into necklaces
pictured their colours captured in superhero necklaces
when i got home
i dropped my bag
kicked off the boots and suit
dragged on an old tracksuit
ran barefoot into the backyard
camera in hand
just to capture ::the light:: the leaves:: the jet trail::the sunset
as i write now
my toes are snug in purple uggboots
chris is playing his didgeridoo at the other end of the couch
and charlie dog is peering into the didge’s end, thoroughly intrigued.
everywhere there is autumn
it touches me and it teaches me
everything changes, nothing stays the same
but all is precious. all poetic. all perfectly now.