Imperfect Sympathy

Grinding toward September's end
fall since officially arrived, 
we're gratified to have our
expectations met, for the view
of the forest leaping up the
mountainside is one of 
breathtaking beauty,
colour enhanced by the burnt
umber, scarlets and gold gradations
of the surrounding woods,
lapping against the slopes
brandishing their autumnal
hues. The fog finally lifted,
the sky's vault as blue as blue,
puffed clouds like woolly sheep
grazing here and there, a
chill hinting of colder days
to come. It's as though the trees
are embarrassed at their
imminent return of naked limbs.
They're in full blush, anticipating
their soon-to-be naked canopy.
They've been there before and
so have we, commiserating
over thoughts of returning to
short winter days and long, frigid
nights, shivering in our very
own naked vulnerability.