An October Prayer

Sunset dipped in amber clouds,
juiced and pressed
in burnt orange.

Palm warblers christen
the wet evening—
beneath the nose, a hint
of pine resin and petrichor.

This seasonal pouring
I have known this fall before,
but where does she wander now?

Has she slipped her moorings
for unmarred seas—
never to return?

As October passes,
patinaed waters pool
beneath sycamores
dropping their toothy leaves.

Pray October winds
carry this ship back to harbor—
not forever,
but long enough to hear it rocking.

Pray the autumn rain
lifts the film from these clouded eyes,
restoring luster
to a marmalade sky.

Pray the morning sun
clears the tongue of yesterday’s orange,
allowing fresh buds
to savor—

fall's full harvest
in October’s Eden,
unafraid,
naked in weathered skin.