The brilliant orb in the sky
sets slightly sooner than it used to,
almost as if to say,
“I’m getting tired now.”
Leaves have begun to color,
and soon thereafter fade,
ruefully shed by the branches
that somehow seem to slump.
Though the air has grown cooler,
life appears to slow its course
and movements require effort;
at least more than before.
The weight of wind grows heavy
and the atmosphere becomes weary,
though the breeze still rustles
beneath the aged beauty of the trees.
And while the days have grown tired,
and though the winters impose,
the sun will shine brightly through
each of the world’s elder souls.