We are small astronomers, and it is our last sunny day.
There is a chill creeping in, these mornings.
You have outside chores.
I sweep. I water plants. I hang the laundry out on the line. It is my method in the madness.
But I think I get it now.
(I do not want to.)
Do not test this theory against our darkness.
Keep us in the light. Make us last.
How we make it a constant amidst the ebb-and-flow.
Let the fall take us, as it does.
We can take it.