end of autumn
pushing up against the cold
oak leaves fading
*
“here we are
in the amber of the moment
there is no why”
The first verse is mine, the second by Kurt Vonnegut.
(The other day while walking outside, something caught my eye—it may have been the rosey color behind the black iron fence. Pausing in the moment, something said take the picture. So I pulled out my camera and took two quick shots, though I didn’t know why. I’m learning more and more to listen and not question that soft, still inner voice.)
