My body is in October.
It’s autumn inside;
things are drying up and wrinkling
but there are vibrant, ripe parts
waiting for frost.
The mood is grim and salacious
and funny all at once.
It’s a time to watch little ones hoard
while I let go tethers holding me to ground.
There’s nothing new but
there are endless ways
to see colors of the world
and rejoice in its patterns
as it falls apart. I feel a kinship with fall.