Indeterminate in Autumn

She changed her mind, the arcane autumn, like maidens
change their mood. Green leaves to aureate she painted
painstaking art that deters young at heart. The book
of life has turned another leaf for me. Chewbacca went to war.

More reds to follow, quiver of crimson stains from strange
lost flags that never were more than a fight, forgotten
now, tucked postcards in between the leaves of book. Then brown,
not dead, but whisper-ready, rustle of home, E.T.-like,

come alive with every step. “Go home!’ Lonesome,
defiant autumn shakes her elysian mane and leaves fly, eviscerated,
her tome still thick while mine has changed a chapter. Kismet.
An alien, where life once held a meaning and path was straight amid lush greens.

I’m lonely now and sit disconsolate with cup by heart
and from the eaves the beldam winter, black claws
for fingers, watches me with greed. A chimera
for now. Behind, blue sky. My heart,, laden in black.