Autumnal

The last Bunch 56 x 42 cm pastel painting by Karin Goeppert

THE TURN

This is light you can live in,

warmish, the color of northern ale,

emerging from the sweat bath of

July and early August, here in

the German speaking tropics, but as dry now

as a martini by Noel Coward. Berlin is not just in

but is a rain forest. Sinuses finally unblocked; a

beaker of sweet morning air before coffee and eggs. 

Season of not exactly mellow fruitfulness—we live in

a city of four-million after all—I’m walking in your midst

through the park with its moldy whiff—I can smell again!—

of mushroom and hash on suddenly cool air. Cyclist

shivering in t-shirt, Jogger with blue legs. Some people

just need a little more transition, okay? A few Muslim women,

in the open yet discreetly concealed, gathering pine cones,

plucking some really juicy ones from tree limbs: pine cone soup?

You love the cold months, nature gnarled and empty,  

nestled on the couch in candlelight, that’s you, a “cuppa”

Yorkshire Gold, the working woman’s brew, at your elbow.

Open cook book against blanketed knees. Cat turning

in slow, semi-conscious circle back to where he started from.

Streetlights on at four PM. Cold of morning staying the whole damn day.  

Vivaldi's 4 Seasons - Autumn

Julia Fischer, violin