Roast the last tomatoes, sugar after burn tastes sweet.
Hustle to harvest all that remains of summer.
Hurry! What will remain has always been up to us.
Leaves, red, yellow, orange show beauty in death.
To die beautifully is to leave red and never yellow. Orange
is extinction, a word to use sparingly, like love.
Love what we can spare from extinction.
Dark mornings allow for deep contemplation.
Deep mourning doesn’t have to be dark if you allow
loss. Let the first light through the blinds.
Blinded, let’s not take these losses lightly.
Wind blows fallen leaves over the neighbor’s fence.
Neighbor, don’t leave while we weather these blows, this fall.
Roast the last tomatoes, sugar after burn tastes sweet.
