October 22
Morning after the rain the creek
Brags its long story.
The breeze picks up
The chatter of leaves.
The maple shrugs about it
But in months to come it will
Shoulder a strongman’s
Burden of snow and ice.
My children race around
The trunk chasing the leaves that
whittle the air unpredictably
On their way to the ground
Sketching out for them their
Invisible future
One day they too will fall
Away from the family tree
Who will be running to catch
Them I wonder
Translations from the English 
You will, Jeff. Your spirit will.
Thanks, Len. I hope so.
Beautiful poem, Poet. Wonderful imagery.
Thanks, E.
Really like this so much – the images, the movement, the parallels. And it holds all the uncertainty of fall.
Thank you.