November Parade

Children spruce stand at the edge of the parade path,
The elder folk far back in the crowd,
good visibility through the thinning trees,
Celebrating and anticipating the arrival of winter.

The cheers run like a wave as the tree tops applaud.
A dance occurs ahead in the procession,
And all withdraw their breath.
Then the roar of the wind band comes from behind us
And the wave of appreciation begins anew.
The piper crickets join the exposition and
perform their best autumn tones,
And a hawk screams in delight.
Veterans of many years
parade these grounds and all is well.

Across the parade path, a giant has tumbled.
Human hands have lovingly placed
a few of its littered remains at the edge of the path.
Its tangled mess that lies fallow in the woods
will be lovingly used by other beings in not too much time.

And suddenly, the gig is over.
The parade path narrows and presents a tall fence,
Windward edge piled high with earlier leaves.
The Band disbands.
The watching kids have disappeared.
The applause seems to come from
Everywhere and no where.
And I, lonely interlocutor am satisfied,
Heart warmed from the walk
And the kiss of breeze
and welcome sunlight on my cheek.
Confetti streamers pop out as the celebration completes.
I sit on the make shift bleachers –
My coat on a a gentle ridge –
And close my eyes and open my soul.