He Must be 16 Yrs Old By Now!

Watching Peanut-the-cat ‘watching’ birds, while sipping my first cup of coffee, is an experience that can not be overrated.  I love these mornings of autumn where everything seems to take on texture, more than any other time of year.  My autumn is filled with ‘ordinary’ days and I feel like I’m made new because of it.

Sparrows Polish Off Yesterday's Feed

On one of my off-leash experiences with Max, I completely relaxed into autumn and wrote.

It is an
autumn
afternoon.

I haven’t been a 
part
of the earth before.
I am the ground,
a bed of yellow leaves,
cool.

I watch the
golden bedazzled
flecks of leaves

separate

from the outermost branches
of hundred year old trees

and gently,

one
after
another,

they come and cover me until
I decide to roll over and
write this poem on an envelope.

Blue sky dappled with bits of cloud;
sun spiked rays, 
like those sharp arms of light
in child-made drawings.
There, up in the corner.

I remember asking,
“Does the sun shine like that?” (What a stupid question!)

Look in the eyes said, “Yes.”

And today I learned it is so,
as sun rays reached around
and through tree arms,
lighting up the dance.

I am witness, this year,
to an event of extreme importance.

Delicious Morning