A Fall Walk


I wrote a poem about taking a walk when the air was chilly and the leaves were turning colors. I passed one tree where there must have been a thousand birds on its branches. It sounded like the tree was chattering...


The trees are chattering today,

Whispering tales

Above my head.

Leaning over to pass

Along some bit of gossip,

Turning a shameful red.

Swaying with amusement

That I,

Far below,

Cannot hear their indiscretions.

Myself a child amidst

A grownup circle of

Women with nothing better to do.

The trees are chattering today,

But soon the air will be silent

As winter moves in

Dampening this hot deliciousness

As birds fly south

And leaves fall.