Reds Poem by Raymond A Foss

Rich vibrant, living color
Dying on the branch
In glory as I drive by
A canopy over my way
Or buttresses along the living border
Of the blacktop I traverse

Saturated, tickling synapses
Charming my eyes, beguiling
Oranges, yellows, and reds:
Candy apple, empire, merlot, barn and fire engine
Fighting for their share, their due
On the canvas

Tree after tree, mile on mile
On the ground, the road, the sky
In clouds and whirls
Filling my vision
Sun sky clouds frame the mood
Backdrop and highlight
Juxtaposed light and shadow
Fall clouds, showers and rainbow
Over the harvested corn field,
Ground turned over
And rolling hills beyond
A curtain call of October
For the failing blood
The fleeting chlorophyll
Gone for another season, another cycle

Neither etched nor burned into memory
But part of the collective
The knowing - fall near and at home
Warm and enduring again
Comfort food for other senses