The Gift of Gold

by Urmi Chakravorty

The wooded paths are a sight to behold

A canvas of russet, gold and umber

My feet crunch on the tapestry of flaming leaves -

Once the crowning glory of the mighty oak

Now lie in supplication, awaiting their turn

To return to the earthen womb that birthed them.

 

The whiff of a dying rose

The twitter of a home-bound warbler

The first frost settling on the frigid ferns

My senior pug asleep before a crackling ingle

The aroma of cocoa, cider and cinnamon

I marvel at the beauty and grace of fall!

 

Is this Death or a mere hiatus?

The weary earth seeking respite

Reminding us to shed, to change, to let go

As the year flashes its last, lovely smile

Gifting us a bounty of mellow charm,

The promise of reflection and renewal,

And bidding us a hopeful Au Revoir.