12 October – Free falling

I will stand under the beech tree
as the west wind blows
and dance among its whirling, twirling gold leaf snow.
I will gaze up at its burnished clouds
that scatter gilded birds
and let myself rest from trying to find the perfect words
to capture, to conjure, to hold the moment tight,
to pin it to paper before it’s lost to time’s wild flight.
I will stand under the beech tree
as the west wind blows
and spin and laugh, rejoicing in its rustling, radiant glow.