*
There’s a reason for every season.
But it’s not really about us.
Humans.
We’re all about making meaning.
As if the tree needs a biographer.
It doesn’t.
It just is.
But I do.
Demand a reason.
For this season.
So I borrow what’s not mine.
*
Fall descends.
Darkness.
Death everywhere.
Inevitable.
No escape.
Even though I try to hide the evidence.
*
Have you ever seen
Anything so foolish
As me.*
_________________________________________________________________
*Yes, you are right; this is an oblique reference to Joyce Kilmer’s poem Trees.
