Thick gray clouds rain
thin and steady moisture
onto a land not familiar with dryness.
Late blooming roses and asters,
gardens thirsting for moisture
have died back slowly.
The grief of fall feels like
deep fog in the harbour,
claustrophic and blind.
Trees with red-gold leaves brighten
the grayness of street and sky
offering certainty that all will be well.
A time of rest is upon us.
Move slowly and carefully
through the fog.
The light and warmth of the sun
is merely behind the cloud.
"There is peace and rest and comfort in sorrow."
~ Soren Kierkegaard
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