Autumn Morning in James Bay

The silence  of night gone

James Bay street lights fade,

dawn edges over the horizon,

leaves are falling from the Ginkgo tree.

The busyness of a Crassweller painting begins,

the smell of a delivery truck's exhaust,

doors clicking, hinges squeaking.

Joggers on Dallas road hasten by.

Silently the leaves leave their trees.

An artist's palette of colours on a pile

of rain-soaked detritus, simmering,

perking as a factory of industrious insects

work through it. On top a Ginkgo leaf

unlike others, tough,  rough veins,

fan-shaped resisting  the onslaught

of nature's decomposing.

A half-awake biker pedals to

J.B.s Coffee and Book Shop

seeking a strong coffee to start his day.

A student-filled bus rattles past

leaving a draft in its wake causing

more leaves to flutter down

to sink into the debris.

The present fleeting moment  in time

is all that matters for leaves and men.

Or the Ginkgo tree on Simcoe street that

is Darwin's living fossil having

lineage before  the ice age in China.

Unlike a still life painting all

are in transition.

H.E.R.