Autumn 2001
By Kristina Pearson

so autumn's arrival
seemed insensitive.

It did not even dress
mournfully

but threw on flaunting fabrics
of stage-light yellow,

siren red (shameless!),
sunset extravaganza orange.

In spite of nature's impropriety
I found myself

making excuses to get in the car,
taking the highway like a long drink.

Hillsides thick with oak and maple were
enormous mounds of mums­-

bright, breathing bouquets
that knew an African proverb:

When Death comes to find you,
may it find you alive.