Autumn is the time for poetry. Later I switch to prose. The darkness and chill do not drag pretty thoughts out of me. As we say farewell to October this year it seems we are rushing headlong into black moods and sorrows. I hope we can make it through this storm that is churning up so much in us all — the election, the full moon, the Hurricane, the Mayan prophecy, the unrest in the world. We are about to be taken up in a vortex of things when we need time to sit and contemplate. It seems we cling like the last leaf on the tree until the impatient season rips us off and sends us flying.