I AM AUTUMN PEOPLE

Quoth Ray Bradbury,

"The October country.
That country where it is always turning late in the year.
That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist.
Where noons go quickly,
dusks and twilights linger,
and midnights stay.

That country composed in the main of cellars,
sub-cellars, coal bins, closets, attics
and pantries faced away from the sun.

That country who’s people are Autumn People,
thinking only Autumn thoughts,
who’s people passing at night
on the empty walks sound like rain."

I am Autumn People, born early this month
I feel the thinning of the worlds
between life and death

I delight in the creak of bones
the howl of wind
the flickering orange of candle light
from within a carved pumpkin.

I step forward in the gloaming,
a child of twilight
walking with my own children of twilight
down the silent sidewalk.

We are quiet,
thinking our own Autumn thoughts
faced away from the sun
our footsteps like rain