I folded my arms against the chilly wind as a river of leaves swirled at my feet and tumbled in collages of reds and yellows against barren branches before me. And no matter how hard I wished, I couldn't make it stop raining leaves. For weeks I have watched as my coneflowers have been pillaged by faded goldfinches and looked on as robins crashed into the grape hollies,intoxicated getting that last remaining berrie before their scheduled flights.
At my feet, the once buoyant day lillies dropped their arms to the earth, a dry stem of their former glory pointing upward like a warning as their energy was drawn back into the earth.
The Horse Chestnut tree's bare branches looked like skeleton fingers against the bleak sky as under it a field mouse scurried beneath a bird feeder grabbing seed after seed,slipping away into the mugos,while above in the sky the sound of honking geese stirred mournfulness within me.
And there are still more days like these and I will roam outside until daylight hours dwindle before me,
and I will reluctantly retreat indoors,
...a cord of memories stacked
winter near the door.