I relish the autumnal demise.
Fruiting labourers shed their sweating brows;
their limbs no longer aching beneath the weight of productivity.
Ripe, suckling offspring have had their fill;
Now, holed away for brighter times.
Final leaves curl, cracking away as the world takes its ease.
Breathing slows, satisfied.
A cold, cosy blanket draws over,
Waiting, waiting… resting,
until the earth cracks and life revives.