Popcorn

"You're changing," I whisper to myself.  

"So am I," whispers the wind.  

I think change is good.  

Change is the way the air cools at night.  

Change is the way I'm back at school again.  

I balance on the ledge of my window, up 31 floors, back pressed firmly against the side. 

Sometimes, I will look below, and watch. 

And sometimes, it helps. 

It’s here-

Prepared or not, the time has come.

The apples tumble from trees

And land in the grass

That’s wet from fall rain.

The leaves float through the breeze,

We watch through the glass.