Seasons

Leaves mingling with dark and sun, mocked the shadows upon the patio fencing. Shifting and turning inside and out, scratching and delicately sketching erratic designs into the darkened wood. Autumn was official. The wind signed it in, the sun checked it off, and the sky filed it under ‘seasons’. 

Above the earth where cats and dogs can’t prowl, tiny birds were whirling from bushes, spiraling high and without a care. Chirping, discussing, debating or singing. 

Might they know, the season was changing? 

Laurie B. Ballard

        October 2012