Now Your Words

Now your words come
tumbling out of the eaves
like leaves from October
Maples, one minute
waving goodbye to the sun
shimmering in the sky,
then darkly blanketing
sidewalks and lawns
in crimson and umber,
as if to say –I told you so.
Do not take umbrage
with me. You wanted
the heat of Summer to wane;
you moaned and complained,
like you do every year, though
I told you it would not last
any longer than other years –
remember?

These days are numbered,
like your life, whose
reasons and seasons
are kept under wraps
in afterlife scrap books—
This is what made you happy?
This is what made you stop crying?
This is what made you suck in your
breath and feel, even for a second,
“Okay–I get it…I really get
it – I’m waking up now!”