May Autumn last long enough
for a full census of fallen leaves.

May we mediate between extremes,
and find resolutions without conflict.

May we savor the easy comfort
of reprieve and anticipation,

filter the past and prophetic
like the sky through bare branches,

feel the silent power of turning over,
accept every new deficit of light.

May we forgive the sun,
may we believe the wind,

may we befriend the moon
and trust in the birds

who always seem to know
the exact tilt of the world.

May we see our breath in the air
and remember that we are alive.

Selected by Raymond Huffman
Hugh Lemma

Hugh does not prefer to talk about himself in the third person, but if he did, he'd tell you he's in a self-imposed exile on the east coast of the USA, but still loves his former home in the Sonoran Desert. He is the author of Odd Numbers And Evensongs and Auditions For The Afterlife.