And Then Comes the Fall...

The sun, after all these white-hot months, loses a bit of its fury and begins to succumb to the fall, relegated to a pale disk behind grey clouds - impotent for all its wanting to scorch and burn. The air is no longer white and thin - invisible but for the waves of heat moving between here and the horizon. The wind comes now from the north and west, from parts more accustomed to snow and ice and all those things that Texas has little experience with.
As the front moves through, it brings with it rain and lightning and swirling winds that throw the sticks and leaves and pecans - there are many this time of year - around the yard and into the street, finally to be carried into the storm drain at the corner by that little river that flows with such purpose....lower, lower, lower, always downhill, always to the sea.
This paper-boat and galoshes river, flowing downhill so quickly, with such purpose, swollen now by the downpour, stained a miriad of swirling colors of greens, purples, blues and greens.

Oil slick / Beautiful.

And somewhere south and east, a river runs into the sea with these our colors. And in the belly of some fish there swims a little paper boat - the first of this season, all lined paper and three hole punched - S.S. Johnny in smeared blue ink across the bow. Swimming now to warmer waters in the belly of the Leviathan, while back in Texas children don their caps and sweaters, cardigans and scarfs against the gathering cold and wind and rain and all those things that summer was so very empty of.