Chilled air swirls down each street,
urban repair instantly muffled,
piping hot java… easy foam.
Herb-filled stews and stocks simmer
with comfort and memory.
And apples. Apples everywhere.
Crisp mornings, warm bed, icy feet.
Sudden lapses in time, lascivious embraces,
we’re late once more.
Hearths flare with soft orange embers,
scotch in hand, pen in heart,
the harvester of words has come.
She’ll leave the stillness, the hush.
She’ll borrow the green, part of the sun,
in months she’ll come undone.
Embrace that ill-lighted sky,
spiced leaves and bitter breeze.
Embrace the lull, embrace the fated.
Begin the reaping, collecting.
Gather your books, amass your thoughts.
Stockpile your pies and preserves.
The blustering tide has arrived.
We’ll brave the rain, dodge the wind,
hold tight and watch it pass.