Love and lively before the Monday that begins fall.
The dim look of the sun at dusk.
If the time we take goes too slightly into the darkness,
All will depend on the hard thought that we put in now;
Cuts of wood to be stacked,
Mounds of raked leaves in crunches,
Tangles of homespun thread;
Creative musings that call us inside from the wild summer.
Life is slowed in fall, but it does so for preservation.
After all, the look of things is leaning toward winter.