Mortality

Still, silent morning

Leaves of trees dappling the morning sunshine

A jet roars overhead

Destroying the silence of the sky.

Lengthening shadows of September

Promise changes to come

Promising the trees, the birds, the little critters, the mighty humans living down below

Crystal autumn mornings.

Cicyadas chirp of cold and frost and color

As leaves drop to the ground.

The end to this world, the beginning of the next

Soon, very soon.

Ten, fifteen, twenty years from now

All of this will still be here

And I will be gone.