Simple Pleasures

I am given over
These short chilly days of autumn
To simple pleasures.
Sitting on the tiny porch,
Ruby Cabernet sparkling in glass,
Watching the sun caress the trees
With slanting yellow light
While black capped chickadees
dash to and fro
Stealing sunflower seeds
From a cornucopia of feeders.

If I sit long enough
My backside will tale the tale
Of the hard chair and
The trees will shift their wardrobe
From brilliant green
To orange and gold and russet
Till at last, with a sigh
The leaves surrender to the season
And slip to the earth
Carpeting the withered grass
Rustling and whispering to each other.

Crows will call raucously
voices rusty with early frost
And high overhead
beneath the feathers of white cirrus clouds
Ragged V-s of honking geese
Stream southward
Encouragement in their wings
South, south, south,
In every beat of wing.

I watch the lake stir and ruffle
As an October breeze runs
Its chilly hand across the surface
And fish below the water,
that shivered to diamonds,
Swim half a beat slower.

I am given over to simple pleasures
As my joints foretell my own autumn
In my sixth decade,
And the cabernet is all the more wonderful
Know the brevity of its beauty,
Rubies sparkling in my hand.