Dull pewter skies,
sodden with autumn rain,
reflect tarnished silver
in the cove.

The landscape is the color of old photographs,
faded and worn from the years
of handling
and recollection.

Fields will soon be plowed under.
This season, this year,
will be relegated to memory-
our lives captured in faded pictures.

Heavy with rain,
the cedar boughs bow to the north wind-
their resinous pale berries
the color of coming frost.