by Paulette Demers Turco
in response to, Reflections by Vandana Bajikar

Why does autumn take my breath away?
It happens every year.
Just as the towering trunks of spruce and pine
seem to disappear
amidst a wide array of sunlit leaves
in iridescent hues,
in canopies of maple, ash, and birch,
and lower views–
crimson poison sumac seem to float,
varying in height,
as if a ruby crown that rims the lake
whose surface holds the light,
losing not a ray of brilliance here,
reflections less distinct,
soon to be broken by a passing loon
whose mournful cry is linked
to absence in a vacant chilling night,
morphing this field of view
where leaves will rust, will fall to feed the earth,
and winter will ensue.


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