In her book Where the Crawdads Sing, Delia Owens describes the autumn leaves choosing their destiny.  She writes… “autumn leaves don’t fall, they fly. They take their time and wander.”  Five years ago, when I was living in Deep East Texas, I wrote a poem entitled “Fall.”  I describe the leaves deciding when to let go, leaving (leafing!) of their own volition.

Now I hold these autumnal images in my imagination.  I remember some of the things for which I was grateful back then.  There is an abundance of things I am thankful for today.  Happy Thanksgiving!


sitting in my rock garden

               with gratitude

this Thanksgiving

the autumn sun warms my back


tree shadows s t r e t c h across the

dry pale grass

steepled together in prayer


soft chirps of tentative choir birds

          mingle with

                    far away dog yawps

                              muffled thumps of falling acorns

                                        a woodpecker’s rat-a-tat-tat ostinato

                                                  accompanied by the steady forest buzz


the golden/red/orange/brown canopy

holds its breath





a breeze stirs and

leaves let go

floating gently down

joining the congregation of leaves

who await my feet’s

shuffle, shush, crunch


-Tara L. Carnes


Carne, Tara. “Fall” The Rose in the World, Winter 2017, p.8. 


0 Points

Previous Article

Next Article