On an Autumn Morning

Orange, yellow, and crimson leaves
piled high on the ground
underneath
half naked trees.
Woodsmoke rises from chimneys
and mixes with the dampness of morning.
The crisp air cuts my face
as I walk
with my dog
through the quiet neighborhood.
I can see my breath
each time
I exhale
and I feel
cold
inside my skin.
I can hear my dog panting
beside me. I soak
in the colors and aromas,
the silence,
the peace.
A breeze whispers by, blowing
the leaves across the street.
I pull my coat
tighter
around my body
and hide my hands in the pockets.

I can see through a window,
the people inside,
beginning to stir.
The wife, half dressed and still in her robe,
hair wet,
scrambles to get breakfast ready
and wake the kids
at the same time.
And the husband races back and forth,
from room to room,
looking for
something important
while putting on his tie
and brushing his teeth
simultaneously
And the kids,
half asleep,
stumble slowly down the stairs,
rubbing the sleep
from their half closed eyes and trying
to adjust
to the bright
light.

From behind me
a single car drives by–
the driver,
only half awake, but already
late
for work.

I turn a corner;
Captain follows.
It’s time
to head home.