Autumn eve in smoke and ash.
Autumn leaves making their solemn way.

These are not the days when I was young
piling leaves and setting them afire
watching the drifting smoke and smelling
the sweet smells of summer going away,
walking to school, chattering, laughing.

What do children know these days
of the days we knew?
What do they know of what
we never knew, imagined
or nightmare dreamed
when we were young?

I feel for their fall into autumn –
what more they will know
will suffer and grieve
long after I am gone.

---

Portland, Oregon – Eve of the autumnal equinox, September 21, 2020

Written during the season of wildfires on the entire west coast of America, blanketing large areas with smoke and ash, destroying homes, killing some. These things are deathly harbingers of a climate change we humans have brought about. No doubt.