Wildly tossed in morning gales,
encircled by autumn-tinted woodlands,
Indian grasses cavort in the meadow remnant,
backlit, as though touched by frost,
pearly seedheads, bowing and waving as I pass by.
Tinkling of chilly ground crickets
and hungry goldfinches seeking seed,
Cawing of crows, scolding jays,
Hidden white-throats rustling in the leaf layer,
Wind whispering through sleepy trees.
Autumn's invitation to pause, to breathe,
to ponder, to exult in this one moment I am given,
in gratitude.
