the dawn of an older age

it's not fall if you don't rake tlhe leaves up
and then jump in them.
it's not fall if you don't catch sight of your shadow on the ground and notice how long it is,
jumping around and dancing like a ridiculous clown just to see how much longer you can make it.
it's not fall if you don't breathe in that earth rich smell,
or that familiar smokey scent of leaves burning in the distance....
if you don't become just a little wistful at the poignancy of the season's change....
the familiarity of it,
and the disbelief that it's happening yet again....
it's not fall if you don't anticipate the quiet breath of winter and the ever present longing for spring to return.
it's not fall if the amber light doesn't strip your soul down to the very core and humble your spirit.