I stand beneath the yellow tree losing its leaves and think to hell with people who think we have no Fall, crunch crunch and that smell. That smell! Of paper and the promise of earthworms. I am in love, and beneath that tree I am an asshole, one hand holding a paper aardvark, or maybe it's an armadillo, an anteater. 'A' for the way my daughter scribbled hard with the purple crayon, the way her preschool teacher told me she is so smart, how she knows her alphabet and answers first, what would we think about moving her into pre-K? ('A' for allegory, me suddenly the potential of a mom with bumper stickers boasting honor student, a line drawing decal depicting each member of the family stuck across the back window, flip flops at the end like a vacation we took for the story.) 'A' is for aloha, aardvark, asshole and apple.
'A' is for Autumnal Equinox, and, believe it or not, Happy. Hook, line, and sinker, construction paper cinnamon simmering sweet hot on the stove.