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Destination Autumn

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Recent days and lonely hours time swiftly passes
by like a zephyr. I drink my coffee to the bleeping
sound of my telephone not answering for fear of
a scam. Doodles and packing tape. Cutting with
scissors.

The mailman is here making a lot of noise opening
and closing the metal lids of our mailboxes. The
coolness has set in no more hot flashes. No more
prolific sweating. Hot liquid. Cool color pencils. Dull
Swiss army knives.

Health officials calling. No end in sight for me. Masks
and shields. Rubber gloves fighting and trying to
control patrons. Now to retire-no vacation in sight.
No sickness to bear. Routine-each day melting into
the other.

I scratch the top of my head. The itch under my eyes
stand out. We are all walking the path-destination
Autumn.

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