And now the leaves are falling as suddenly as they sprouted,
back in spring, revealing spindly branches waving naked in the wind.
It feels so long ago now we were searching
for any signs of life after the long winter, the first blade of green grass
poking up through melting snow and a break in the endlessly gray sky.
Winter is coming again, before long, too soon for comfort.
I will take these days where the sun still peeks over the tops of the trees,
flipping through pages on the front porch until the chill reaches my bones
and the porch lights come on.