The Miracle Of A Very Good Ending
There is a thrill in walking to and from places in the fall.
There is the confetti of leaves
and our last frivolous act of the season is to step on them
just hear them crunch.
There is the thrill of the darkness that comes early
of the relief of going home and going to bed
after a long hot summer.
I have always loved fall because it is the season where the things around us prepare to die.
I like to know that things end.
That there is a period at the end of a sentence.
That it doesn’t matter if it is a good bit of prose, or something that a student writes, we give them both the courtesy of a standard issue punctuation mark.
Of acknowledging that they are over.
I like to know that every year winter comes.
The summer days don’t last.
That the trees will make a show of losing their leaves and then be quiet.
It is comforting to know we are not expected to muster up the courage to keep on going, forever.