The air is crisp as it falls on my nose in the wind;
the hour of day aging with the months and seasons.
The water, as still as a day with no air until a ripple from a fish reaches the surface.
I can see the changing leaves, the vibrant reds and yellows. In the distance,
the noise of feet breaking branches and disturbing nature as I touch the leaf just fallen where memory resides.
-Carly McKay, Coventry-