Autumn colors sweep the hillsides
that fall away to a farm pond
on the valley floor.

Evening vapors rise, gather
geese in a storm of feathers
leaving a wake in water and fog.

I walk the day down with the sun.
My shadow, roaming the hills,
slips back into me.

Last rays of sun creep up my back,
electrify the hair on my neck,
hot as my tongue in a lie.

Geese circle the valley, rise in formation --
a gaggle of conversation --
follow the glow-road home.