Photograph: Sharron R. McMillan
We’re never ready for you
firewood is not all gathered yet
flower buds still wait to open
the garden is not ready
for it’s long sleep.
Neither am I.
Too much to do
before the whiteness
covers all
and I am still,
beneath it’s hushed shroud.
Wait. Wait
until my colours
turn to shades of autumn
and I let go
my life
to
Fall.
©Sharron R. McMillan
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