All Fall, in an unfamiliar space,
striving for comfort with discomfort
and subtly dreading change.
Feeling only bitterness
when her California people
proclaim their love for snow.
Cajoling and reassuring
her inner part that contracts
with the growing cold.
Peering into wet grey skies with suspicion.
She had forgotten
the way it coats every surface,
highlighting the edges of things,
illuminating the cosmic manuscript.
Today, the first day it sticks,
Might the unpredictable Changes,
threatening only freezing rain and cataclysm,
also somehow burnish the world in beauty?