the wrinkles of my skin remind me of the last leaves of November
fragile and dry, a far cry from their supple structure and green hue of June
it feels like yesterday I too was smooth and lithe, now my body says it’s middle aged
is it if I don’t feel it?
the changes are subtle, but they’ll only increase
much how fall sneaks into winter
and then all you have is the cold, grey sky
and the white flurries that dance on the wind
like the fuzz from a dandelion blown by my younger self
on a hot July day
the sagacious bee 