The leaves have started falling ‘round me, all
yellow and brown and spotted.
They pile on me where I’m sat on a log
covered in moss and rotted.
As seasons will change, the wheel keeps turning.
Spring turns to summer, then fall.
When signs begin to appear around me,
I am not sad at all.
I crave the change, the chill in the wind,
permission to let myself rest again.
Casey Coukos 