Accepting My Autumn

A poem about change and aging.

image by Russia Arkhyz on Shutterstock

Accepting My Autumn

My horse labored the last few feet

As we crested the hill

My reluctant heart and mind

Adding to his burden.

His heaving chest

Expanding and contracting

Beneath me

As we come to grips with our bearings.

We stood weary from the long ride,

Expected to move on,

Unsure of where we were going.

What direction from here?

There were many trails,

But no familiar path.

Just simple arrows pointing waywardly

Amidst a jumble of color,

Shades of green, gold, russet

Separate, but meshed

Like horse and rider.

I contemplated the route I should take

As he shook his head,

Perplexed at my hesitation

About facing the season before me.

Our wondering hearts have quieted