Crisp.
Like biting an apple.
In the first cool breeze.
The subtle, natural sound.
Of the first steps on leaves.
Like nature’s confetti.
In the midday sun.
The dried and the dead.
Off the trees they come.
Floating and twirling.
Twisting through air.
Hovering until they hit,
the pavement with care.
I take a bite and take a step.
Crunchy, crispy, clean.
Shedding the dead, to nourish the soil, and grow anew again.
The Good News is…
We all don’t know what we’re doing,
or where we’re going.
We all fall down,
And fall short.
We all give up,
And take back.
We all make mistakes,
And wrong turns.
But deep down we all know,
that while we’re here for this short beautiful moment.
If we just try our best, give our all, love our hardest, and take it easy, we’ll realize we’re all in it together.
And may together be our favorite place to be.