A sense of endings

"On a smoke gray afternoon 

in October, 

we sat on the porch, 

wrapped in sweaters 

against the stiff little wind 

out of the east. 

Soon it would bring rain; 

you could smell it coming, 

and there would be a big wind, 

because it was born in the east 

where all the changes get started. 

It would be the end of the lingering, 

muted colors  

and probably the end of the long sweet fall. 

Already we lit the fire earlier, 

and came in out of the purpling twilight 

ready for heat and drinks and hot food. 

But on this afternoon, 

the sense of endings was powerful, 

and we shivered on the porch longer than we might have otherwise."

 

Islands

Ann Rivers Siddons

2004