seasons gentle kiss

trees have begun to shed their verdant attire

now in wrappings of a roan chemise
and the songs of my feather morning friends
have changed from a symphony choir
to a quartet in a decrescendo tune

i am gathering these days and weeks

with arms wide and stretched embrace

and squeezing what little is left into cupped hands
the hording of morning air, the sleepy flowers
of autumn and their reverie whisperings of
the passing warm summer’s day

 i welcome the template of nature’s change

not wishing it coming to soon

for my ankles, my knees, my fingers, my hands

they read too quickly the gray and the gloom

as do my hair and my skin, aging change, they display

the trees where once vibrant and gay

now grasp for the slight shards of sun

piercing the day
 

oh labyrinth of life show me the way

make gentle the callings of my day
for my legs no longer of equine strength
my arms writhed in slumber of age
and my sleepings and wakings,
what’s left , are now in display

make common my laughter
and softly the kiss of the day
and to those who love me
lift their spirits in a celebration
to when came the joining of our hearts
and make gentle to them, like this changing
of season,  as i ride away