I woke up and Fall was here.
Naptime eyes remembered the
touch of light clothes in a
summer breeze, blowing
responsibility and dark clouds away.
Neverending heat,
laziness and comfort,
until the west breeze came under my skin,
so tired my eyes exclaimed that I
had to rest.
I arose, the sky casting farewells
and there it was
like I remembered in some faraway dream that came
every year.
Rustling coos of the turning leaves,
where one thing can become something else entirely,
so brings the wave of change
where will that leave me?
Humans too bring back their old jackets
sometimes they need to go out and buy more
clothes, in order to keep warm with the
change.
I go out and ask the trees who have shared
this summer with me,
ask them before they fall, before they leave,
If we as humans have changed?
In reply, short and courteous,
“The moth comes when it needs to feed, but after the ripping comes the patching, and then the new, and the old jacket is hung.”
I come home,
pull open my closet,
my jacket has many patches
there’s not much room for more,
I pull it on, the cloth clinging
too tightly.
Rough with age.
Yet, each stain held
tenderly in my eyes.
But there was no denying
it was outgrown.
Its eyes were ready to close
In memories.
I guess it’s time
to find another
Brimming with Bats in the Belfry 