The leaves fall to the creek floor
like careless drops from the brush of some artist.
Splattering the rocks with rust and bronze,
pale yellow and shades of green, they and the creek
make a painting of their own. But this is no accident.
There’s nothing careless here. It took eons
to produce this scene, time beyond measure.
All for this moment, this one breath of a day,
when the light and the air were just so,
and it was early September.