Autumn

Autumn

The chair rocks back and forth,
Wooden floors creak keeping pace
As the fresh breeze picks up,
And the first leaves sweep the porch.
The colours of summer are fading
Into brilliant red and yellow tones,
As dark skies of rain threaten in the distance.

The fields have been harvested
And plot-by-plot the farmer plows the land.
Fresh soil unearthed carrying the wishes
Of new hope and abundance.
This is the year, the farmer whispers
As a tear rolls down the hardened cheek,
I will be able to provide for us all.

The house stands alone,
The windows rattle in the wind,
And an old woman waves back.
The smell of fresh coffee fills the air
As she sets the table and reaches for her journal
These are the words you will read one day,
Before time erases them.

She has lived through it all.
The love, the losses, the uncertainty of our times
Still I would do it all over again,
Her frail hand spells, no regrets.
She smiles as she puts the ink to rest.
Autumn is here, time to lit up the coal fire
And step into this secret world of dreams.


Janete Cabral Copyright 2010