Summer to autumn, leaves pirouette,
lissome and limber, garnish green in harvest gold.
Deer brindle to blend in forest dusk,
sun sets with longer arms to reach shorter days.
A first snow pantomimes the story of our year, covers
tired roots tucked deep for sleep in burnt umber.
You come to me this late-November morning, cover
me with your lissome-limbs,
tributaries to a core root.
Catherine Arra is a native of the Hudson Valley in upstate New York where she lives with wildlife and changing seasons until winter when she migrates to the Space Coast of Florida. Arra teaches part-time and facilitates local writing groups. Find her at www.catherinearra.com