A Fruitful Floor, for Hannah

A man once said, "Nothing gold can stay." And so it is, that everything must age, that all summers must, some day, come to an end. But, there is one constant thing that remains, and that is change. The bird of paradise sings the crack of its egg, the moon encrusted like a jewel in the muted heaven of night shines the echo of the day, And Aunty Autumn, too, is born by the fall of her brighter sister season. In her cool, whirling dance of flaming leaves, she sings her breezy melodies of memories reaped like the harvest, lovingly preserved like berries, plums, persimmons, and ginger dried and stored for safekeeping—dried and stored to sustain us through cold, wet winter, there for us through our life's changes when we need a sweet respite, like the sweet pineapple jam we made for our grandmother when we were just 12 years old that we still savor with her in dream every night..