there is the angst we feel in our own way
Is it muscle memory
Is it our instincts
That pull and fret and cannot settle?
Energy and purpose appear in the guise of projects
and an array of attempts to calm
and quell the beast.
In the almost fall
there is heat from the sky and chill from the earth
for the humans
to remark over.
To relate to the angst
and blame for the tug.
The minuscule change in the air
has us raising our noses, scenting the change
As though woodsmoke and frost were blowing our way
In the fall
as the cycle brings dormancy
to some living things
Others stumble out, eyes blinking,
and prepare to live
To create and drive purpose up the winding road
and straight into the arms of