The wind blows a little colder,
The leaves begin to change color,
We can sense the onset of Fall in our bones
Autumn will come with her cloudy skies
Her winding down time
Her hot cups of tea
Her time to release
In the Sukkah we can feel her cool breath
Flowing through our doorless entryway
And the openings in our thatched ceiling
Where an entire year of limitations pass through
Raise your face to the sky
Plant your feet on the ground
Listen to the birds
Sit with the ashes of grief
Yield to the pangs of transformation
Feel the pain of stagnancy
Entertain the brazen rays of sunshine
Sneaking through the holes
In your imperfect roof
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54 Portions (Soul Talk) 
Rich words, Abi, invoking the moving on of the seasons and change. This is my favorite time of year.
Thank you, Len! It’s my favorite time of year as well.
Nicely done! 🙂
Thank you!!
Abi, this poem has beautiful imagery. I feel as if I am there. In my mind’s eye, see colors that are so beautiful that they don’t exist in this life. They are in a different realm. This is exactly what I need right now. I need poetry and beauty in order to sooth my wounded soul. Thank you for your generosity of spirit!
Thank you, Shaina!! Your comment warms my heart. Very happy to know it evoked that imagery for you. 🖖
Very nice! We so often read about and dicuss the Festival of Booths, and the symbolism connected to those who wandered the desert. But, seldom do we personalize those feelings about what it means to us in the Sukkah. You have done an excellent job of that. I need to pay more attention to my own feelings both physical and mental and not just about the symbolism.
Thank you, Phil! Love your insights and realizations. Beautiful thoughts! 🖖
I agree with Phil.