Caballo Lake Autumn

Just after

the sun rises over the Caballo Mountains

And the lake begins to shimmer azure and indigo

I hear the shrill sweet trill of

sandhill cranes,

flock after flock ,

high in the bluest, deep blue sky.

Returning to Socorro in

dark vee formations.

Fall beckons me like a siren out

Into the beauty of the world.

Rich in color, softly dying.

Even as I learn the lesson of falling leaves,

my heart sings in concert

with the cranes.

My soul leaps to ride

on their wide, wild wings.