On Autumn

The air is cool, clean in the wake of rain
Gray sky hangs too close for comfort
As the leaves finally reveal to us their true colors
And I shed layers of myself

Walking down the cement pathway
Lined on both sides by trees older than time, it seems
I shrug into my knitted scarf
And shrug into myself

In truth, I wear this life
The same way I wear this jacket and this scarf
And, stuffing my arms into the short, snug sleeves,
I am finding that it’s a forced fit

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