While we were gone

While we were gone, autumn arrived: 

The trees have begun to turn, 

And the sunset’s once again moved south, 

Hiding behind the trees instead of 

Hanging out over the ocean and the cliffs.

 I mourn the loss each year, and then adjust: 

We humans grow adept with time 

At mourning and adjusting, especially as we age — 

The thousand tiny deficits 

 That pare away our confidence and competence, 

Yet still we persist in living, and find new ways 

To cope with all the change and stay 

As self-sufficient as we possibly can…