"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
