Crickets' Code

Crickets' Code

by Gideon Burton

I hope you'll wait with me; there's more to tell:

Each pulse and hush of Autumn rhythms down

the Wasatch canyons, breezing aspens swell

their flat medallions, amber evenings drown

the western facing mountains rippling red

in crevices of leaving leaves, the cool

of air sustains the time we thought had bled

to Winter weariness, unwinds the spools

of muscled hurry, welcomes us to slow

reception of the crickets' code conveyed

across the dozing decades in their flow

of seasoned seasons, quiet and unswayed.

     I told you it would come. Now watch it pass:

     a fallen golden world strewn on the grass.

Photo: flickr - //amy//