A memory hits–

a wave high, wide

grows, crashes

water rolls over my shoulders–

~Mountain sun crests

a freshly snow powdered horizon,

golden aspen leaves dangle

from this stems, whisper

last breaths, drop

from gnarled white branches.

the alpine streams

gurgle, bounce between

ridged granite slabs, their numbing cold

water will soon bounce

no longer. evergreen boughs tremble

gently in mountain breeze. my lungs swell

with the piercing dense air

of fall in the Rockies.

For a moment, briefly in this city, I was in Colorado, taking a big old breath of that amazing mountain air. We may not have fall in the city, but it’s still fall somewhere…