Avalanche/2/Watershed

Mickey Higginbotham

You cannot hold back fall —

its very name an action, a command.

The avalanche of days starts slowly, 

then spins out of control.

The sugar maple goes ablaze, 

flames overtake the ancient oak,

creating a fiery gash against the great wide open.

And suddenly, as if triggered by the weight 

of its own grand spectacle,

every notched Ginkgo biloba fans to the ground.

Golden Girl finery spotlights maidenhair roots,

a saffron shadow of what was.

/2       

There was no containing it.

Fall fell, under orders from on high.

The burning bush ignited,

and everything went into motion.

Blush, tarnish, release.

The avalanche of days birled past,

compelled — commanded — to comply.

Now frosted earth is blanketed 

in garnet, amber,

smokey topaz, 

honey quartz, 

citrine.

Bold in their near nakedness,

dancing limbs stretch skyward,

shivering of days to come.

/Watershed

What’s left of fall’s offering —

that blanket, sheltering spring —

starts washing down the slope, 

the yard, 

the broken pavement,

overwhelming culverts and the creek

with a whirling mush of tannins, 

treasures, 

storm-stirred debris.

The deluge sweeps up sticks,

stones,

chicken bones,

tender shoots with rip-torn roots,

a camo print Croc, mud-sucked into

this Gone Forever Hole.

There’s a berry-flavored Skoal round, crushed,

floating past the plastic ghost 

of an IGA bag.

There’s weathered cans, cups, bottles…

“Whoops — lost it,”

car-tossed it, 

onto the ground, 

into the drink,

playing chase with a styrofoam cup 

from Biscuit World.

Abscission stew from earth and man

flows into Twelve Pole Creek.

Will it make its way to Ceredo, 

carried with the leaf litter

from the avalanche of days?

Will it survive on down the Ohio, 

all the way to Cairo and the Mighty Mississippi?

Will it sink, dissolve, 

or wedge askew

among sun-bleached shore logs,

carried by tea-colored waves?

Atlanta native Mickey Higginbotham is a University of Georgia graduate who has written for newspapers, magazines, blogs and the U.S. defense healthcare industry. Her poetry is published in the Summer 2026 journal Untelling. The Louisville resident has additional poetry and a Southern suburban gothic memoir forthcoming.