Autumn Chew

There’s something about the morning air in autumn

That you can slice

Like a piece of pie

And eat it without a care in the world.

It’s rich with the smells 

That night has made.

The dew on the leaves that have fallen,

A skunk has mildly trotted through.

Someone’s brewing coffee.

A faint hint of cigarette, 

Someone’s walking with sweet almond lotion

Rubbed

All over themselves,

And it’s warming, as they do,

On their morning walk.

And now the sky is turning autumn blue,

And morning has fully broken,

And it gives way to something new,

But something that can’t be sliced like pie,

Something that must be consumed 

Some other way.

We consider what that may be

While we silently chew

Our toast and jelly,

And call it Day.

-jenn