Were my life four seasons of twenties
I would be in late Fall.
Spring and Summer past, so too the brilliance of leaf and coolness.
Only a few bright jewels remain quivering on their branches
knowing full well they await their last flight
of wind before gravity takes hold.
From here I can feel the chill of coming winter.
And I now see, with other limbs bare,
the evergreens standing sure and unmoved by the seasons’ ravages.
They have been there all along playing
a lesser role to oak and maple.
Providing scaffolding for all of nature’s
hoopla to dance and frolic.
Now they have their day…their deep values
fencing the path, marking the way.
I walk on. For I cannot go back.
Stopping to rest beside an evergreen
I admire its solidity, if prickly and severe.
I touch the bark, the needles, and I inhale something rich, resinous, comforting.
Surely in my winter, evergreens will guide with pointy fingers
and lay out a carpet soft for travel-weary feet.
Here in late autumn I can still feel the sun of summer’s day,
the blush of spring’s blooming.
It is all encompassed by memories of brilliant colors against a bright blue sky.
The hint of woodsmoke brings me to now, as I walk forward
into winter’s snowy embrace.