I move furniture to follow sunlight across elderly floorboards. From here I can watch October move its borders from sky to land. My mental fringe falls into a slow, floating cadence and like this, stillness is quilted. The overlapping saffron and siennas mute the bald sun for now, but soon there will be only bare branches – trees reaching for hugs. October barely arrives before it leaves. I'm at home on this high ledge of autumn's pinnacle, looking down into the steep descent of frigid expressions. Perhaps I do cling to what is beautiful. But my favorites fade so quickly and in the wake of long dark months, I want to celebrate them while I can. Embrace. And kiss. A Libra and her scales; which is heavier, justice or desire?
Apple slices and tea. Bread and honey. Soup and cider. The table speaks of harvested time. We sit together for now knowing that soon we will need to keep moving for warmth.
But not now. Today is marigold chairs pushed into golden beams. It is red, fleecy blankets pulled up to armpits, tucking in quiet legs and toes. Today is still October and I want you to sit with me on the blushing ridge of fall's most spectacular being.