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Note to Selfie,

• One cold rain fell and dried, and Outdoors through the windows the horizon seems the Same, though beneath the Feet, we now crunch our first fresh bowl of Golden Cereal. Autumn, leaves. The variously shaped and sized Nouns verbalizing the climatic Final encore and reluctant Exit of that showy débutante, Summer, who followed boldly behind the timid steps of the ingénue, Spring. Statistically the most Favorite season, Fall is. Perhaps that is why It is the only one to have two names to it. We can't let go. Like in Love, watching the drain of Colour from the face of the Beloved in onset of Winter. The only Season detached from the Name and nature of a Woman. The Cold, as the Old Man, dragging home his disparate Daughters •