Before fall comes and overthrows the regime of heat,
The leaves drop to the earth in protest, their fibrous
Veins pulsing with the morse code of sunlight:
“It’s time for a change.”

Before fall comes and swallows the scent of summer,
The flowers seal shut their lips like hunger strikers,
And the wind carries a cold message from the poles:
“It’s time for a change.”

But once fall comes and plants its flag upon the sky
And erects its buildings upon the land,
Winter, in icy formation, appears on the horizon,
And in winter every snowflake is a blueprint for change.

August 19, 2007