Poem: A Taste That Lingers

A Taste That Lingers

I love Fall,

the crisp, windy, 

color

kaleidoscope of it,

the canvas of painted

trees,

the smell of air

so sweet

you might pause

mid-step

to savor it like

a cup of exotic tea,

or a sip of

fine wine

made from grapes

ripened in the chill air

on a day just like

this day,

or maybe 

it's the crunch of leaves

that conjures up thoughts of a crackling fire

built in the middle of a field,

with children gathered 'round,

and marshmallows roasted

to softened perfection,

or maybe 

it's the crisp apple

just picked from a tree

laden with fruit

 that tastes like Fall;

a taste that lingers

long after the last bite,

and stays in your memory

long past your youth,

a taste that brings you back to the days of Fall,

when all was good and all was right with the world,

back to now when all is possible,

and life is clear 

and perfect 

and crisp

with possibility.