I have seen this light before--
An old friend, unfamiliar and returning.
Startled, half-embarrassed as he makes the introduction--
"I am Fall."
Yes, I think, it is him-- there,
The very way he used to slip around my senses;
That must be him, none other could learn the trick.
He hasn't changed much.
No, he has not-- and seeing him,
Unchanged, returning, I remember many things;
Half-memories gleefully pelting my head with rocks
Like giggling children on a balcony.
Not memories, really-- more,
The feeling that I am in the presence of the ages.
Looking through the eyes, breathing the air, echoing the footsteps
Of the multitudes who have stood here