of death and the closing of a seasonal chapter. But, I've always likened
heavy, ripe, late summer to a woman, ready to give birth. Autumn is
my genesis. Maybe it's because I was born in October, that I am
regenerated in the fall. I consider it to be the start of my year. Fresh,
arctic air breathes new life into my stagnate summer soul. I savor fall;
the cool foggy mornings, the vibrant tones, bursts of crisp, spicy air
through open windows. My zest returns. I can once again think clearly.
I am born again. Ah, soon now.
in death clothes
of an August womb
in midwestern sun
until autumn genesis
to be born
photo: red impatiens in my grandmother's iron pot, Sept 2009