by Trevor Hughes, a high school teacher who started out in 1972, like yours truly. The last poem in my UK friend-poet’s moving collection: belongings (2017). Says a lot today in a fall COVID time. (It was originally written about the tragic passing of his 25-year-old son.)
Nature, fall, and Time have their ways with us, always.
autumn leaves
dazzle on the drive
through the wood
approaching Le Prin
russet hues
bronze and copper tints
glint in the sun
shaken by the wind
some already float earthwards
accumulate
bleed a subtle variety of shades
which will in time
acquire dark spots
decompose
dissolve into a mulch
seep into the earth
broken down
assimilated
let fungus do its work
spread in deep profusion
its white filaments
enrich the soil
liberating dead organisms
for renewed life