afternoon winds of October’s kiss.  I feel the celebration

of early harvest all around me as a festival of leaves

scatter through the barren parking lots and over worn down

curbs blanketing the architecture of footprints

with the fabric of golden orange, bright yellow and a crisp

cool sunburned brown.  This is a great day for beer;

a great time of the year to breathe this all in

and allow our minds to cheer

as this is Autumn in New England—this is the beauty

of the life sized portraits of fall; rows of mountains covered in an picturesque

coating of red leaves highlighted

by the dimmed blink of sunset barely peeking through

pink flavored clouds that will finally surrender to dusk.  I hear the jack-o-lanterns

grin in open fields of laughter where children play

as I discover the pause in each moment that distinguishes

this feeling.  It is a great day for a beer; a great way to inherit

the malty flavor of this new season

and embrace the spirit of mother nature; a great way to inhale

the apple flavored mist covering the burgundy texture

of fresh planted mums collaged together in a colorful mix

of pure delight and it is a great time to envision the magical

transition of time’s disguise from forgiveness of  Summer’s demise

to the gentle apology of Autumn’s rise.  This is the time where

I feel blessed; I time I breathe in the clarity in the air

and allow my mind to rest

because just before the sky open’s to winter’s nest

we have this time of fulfillment within the elements

of October’s fest.

(2011)

Tarringo T. Vaughan