Some leaves turn yellow or gold or red, then they fall to the ground. The sun pauses its journey then turns south. Elk mostly evade their pursuers then they leave. Beaver lay massive mats of willow branches in the creek then they eat them. Friends come by and say goodbye. It rains then the sun comes out. Firewood comes in to be turned to smoke and ash. Weathered paint is replenished for now. Giant mushrooms once blooming in the duff, now leather on the ground. Lives have come and gone. Lupine seeds have disappeared; they will be back, someday. I saw a shooting star. The larder fills only to be emptied. The painted pony goes up and down. The raven calls, still.
And the seasons they go round and round And the painted ponies go up and down We're captive on the carousel of time We can't return we can only look Behind from where we came And go round and round and round In the circle game – Joni Mitchell