Just

Early morning,

With the sun just risen over the horizon,

And the sky tinted a faint blue-grey:

This is the best time to be awake.

With the air just cool, but not yet turned

To cold

And the birds,

Who haven’t yet fled,

Singing

This is the best time

The trees

Their leaves just turned to red and yellow and orange

Stand, arching over the roads

A breeze blows.

Leaves fall — but not all of them. Not yet.

This is just — now

And it is good.