The crunch of the grass under my feet
Crystal shards freezing each blade in time, if only for the morning
The chill on my cheeks, making me wish I had lingered over coffee longer
I pull my jacket together as if I am making it stronger
I walk down the road, my rhythm set by birds conferring
They are gathered for their annual convention to leave this place
They want a sun that warms each feather
I want crisply coated air delivered by this weather
My friends laugh that I am made for scarves and sweaters
As I wrap up, they lament the loss of sandy toes and margaritas
I have the gift of knowing Lake Michigan’s cold sand
As Fall falls, those once summer waves still crash upon the land