Autumn Arrives

Autumn. Arrives 

slowly, drenched in summer memories of rain.

Water. Lentils, soup, and surely a spicey tea

for evenings when thoughts warm,

nestle in daydreams pulled across 6 in the evening.

The news is over. The games begin. The toes in socks

cross each other, fetal, real, rested. A book opens.

A television goes off. Clicker dormant. 

Apple crisp waits, cool and sweet

for the tada of the fridge light going on.

Leaves frosted and dry,

churn outdoors

in a chilly wind spinning names

and sounds calling Winter.