Philosophical

the nuts are all ripened up 
scattered along the floor 
snuggly tucked in for bed 
cozy within the layer 
of the radiant collage 
the brilliant duvet 
ranging from coal 
to bright silver 
once you turn 
a tile over 
 
it is such a calm so pleasant after 
the huff and puff of summer falters 
even the clouds somehow drift away 
alone in a new silence fill the air 
making history anchored in the pillars 
barked and brown reaching back to may 
and written upon each of them in bride 
 -What year is it?-

by the autumn turn