“It’s raining leaves”
Mom is beyond the autumn of her life
Living through the deep winter of loss
Even those of us a generation younger
Are now old ourselves

Her world overflows with bad news
Sometimes a drizzle
As she learns of a younger relative
Entering assisted living
Sometimes a torrent
Death, disease, disability
Drumming a sad song
On the roof of her mind

Born and raised in steadily green
Southern Louisiana
She reacts with a child’s glee
To Virginia autumn

I thank Mother Nature
For small blessings
That make a 98 year old
Sound young:
“It’s raining leaves.”