Leaves litter the sidewalks now–golden and curled. The scuttle of dried leaves even scared the tender greyhound I walked today. As I dashed through them, chasing after the lithe hound on my leash, the leaves brought to mind part of one of my favorite poems by Marvin Bell, “These Green Going to Yellow”–
This year,
I’m raising the emotional ante,
putting my face
in the leaves to be stepped on,
seeing myself among them, that is;
that is, likening
leaf-vein to artery, leaf to flesh,
the passage of a leaf in autumn
to the passage of autumn,
branch-tip and winter spaces
to possibilities, and possibility
Apartment porters repeat a ritual each day–washing the sidewalks in the morning and sweeping the leaves all afternoon. The smoke seems to have dissipated and the air is becoming fresh, fresco, one of my favorite words. The city is beginning to absorb me more each day. To me, there is no season as welcoming as fall.
3 Comments
April 28, 2008 at 1:18 am
Did you start dog walking? How fun! All the fun of a puppy w/ none of the annoying parts.
April 28, 2008 at 9:21 pm
I started walking a friend’s miniature greyhound twice a week. It is such a delight.
May 6, 2008 at 11:04 am
I love this post. Great poem and the description of fall as inviting has changed my mood drastically. Not that I don’t like fall, it’s just I dread winter. Oh, the dog walkers. In my neighborhood, it seems every dweller has at least one dog. One of my favorite spottings is a lone dog walker with 10 or so leashed pets (all typically about the same height but in a variety of colors and expressions) walking through the park of Palermo. I always feel like I can see the joy in the dogs’ faces as they bounce in unison and walk with pride. I think I’d like that job.