I DON’T RECALL

I don’t recall
when I first fell
for fall,

too young to know
what seasons were,
or the reasons the leaves
fell to the ground
peppering the lawn
with the colors of dawn,
I sensed the change
in the air, in the trees,
in the quickening step of folks
who smiled into the light,
their sheer delight
alive in their eyes,
senses on high alert,

scents imbued
with spiced goodness,
cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves,
sprinkled with abandon
in cider, pies, donuts,
coffee, tea,
saturated the air
with a rare effusive gift,

and I, a child,
accepted the gift
knowing even then
that reason
could not explain
the magical
wonders of the season;

no wonder I fell for fall.