Matthew Vetter
Photo: scottfeldstein
Quite suddenly, it is autumn.
The leaves of the maple fall
like asterisks, mere footnotes
to the pages of our days here.
My five year old son hurries
through the house, searching
for cap and jacket. Together,
we have found three pinecones,
covered them with peanut butter
and birdseed, and hung them from
the sagging branches of the willow
with fishing line: a small gift,
lacking only a certainty of who
has given, and who has received.
My question to you is this:
what have you accomplished?
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