Light, water, leaves...

Where I grew up, which is far away now, both in time and distance---it has already snowed, like it usually does. The striking golden leaves of the aspen have fallen down, brown under the weight of frost and snow. But here, far away, where I am now, autumn is able to sigh many times before being taken away by the heavy frost or snow. Here I have a lightness, a feeling of floating...much like the leaves must have when they dangle and dance from the branches in the summer, and then in their glory are caught by a breeze and gently fall. Some even lucky enough to fall upon a pond or lake, to float there for many more days. Today light, water, leaves and light. And there as if two brightly hued leaves have been brought together and sail: a butterfly, and I think:

Is this the last

butterfly

I'll see

Before

Frost lames wing?

Before leaf

lies captured

on ice laced

pond?

The only answer there is, is perhaps, perhaps not. Now is only:

water

leaves

light