I saw the maple flames last week.
Rain and wind and this square canvas
has returned to a simple line drawing.
A new beginning, a few remaining leaves
suggesting what the creator has in mind.
Female worker bees are working long hours
gathering autumn nectar for the colony’s winter.
Like me, they’re storing carbohydrates and protein
for when they stay inside, although unlike
bees, I hope not to die there.
Autumn’s not colored foliage or apple picking.
For some, a harvesting or hunting Moon.
Acorns falling like a broken clock tick-tocking.
“Eulogy” in Greek means a “good word,”
quietly spoken for things and people gone.