When the Fall Weather Comes – Photo and Poem

When the Fall Weather Comes  –

The first fog of fall brings a chill with the scent of rain,

of ichor, the blood of the gods, a mist

that looks like a driving

rain in the street lamps now switched

on from clouded shadows.

It catches me unaware, this feeling,

as I open the door and the dog

and cat run out

like children you can’t call back again.

I follow them down the front steps and into a field

behind the house, beyond the barn,

and into a place of torn

feelings. The gray mist flows

over the high valley, obscuring

the mountains as the dog bounds

out ahead and the cat picks

her way through the dead grass.

Surrounded by the unexpected weather  

where the storm crows call, 

I kneel and crumble some earth to dust

into the cold breeze. 

How long, I wonder, will I be in this place? 

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