On September mornings

you wake up to  find the lighting has changed.

You see things in a new way.


You place yellowing leaves on a journal page

and photograph them together.

Beach stones make a nest for a flower.

The caped woman holds 

the secret of the earth.

And birds drop their feathers.

Maybe you explore a little town.

Soaking it in.

Seeing things in a new way, 

that you haven’t seen ever before.

One broken flower on a rusty table top.

And then you are home again

and you make hearts to share with the world.

With Russian Sage and Chrysanthemums.

You bring an old iron bench inside 

from the garden.

And dance and twirl.

You use clothes as decorations

just because you love their colors.

And you go outside…

And somehow the morning

has become the evening.