In the bare bones
of a waking day,
I sit.
Still.
War and rumors of war advancing.
Overtaking.

In the bare bones
of a waking day,
I sit.
Still.
War and rumors of war advancing.
Overtaking.

Trees. Luminous in the forest. As the dying begins.
Letting go. Piece by piece. Leaf by leaf.
Orange. Yellow. Red.
Beautiful. And certain.
Seasons change.

Travel plans so carefully made. Flights scheduled and booked.
Anticipating long-delayed reunions. After many covid19 restrictions. Requirements. Roadblocks.
Then, sudden uncertainty. Again.
Everything is up in the air.
Like the autumn leaves outside my window. Scattering in the wind. Landing who knows where.
