Sunday, September 11, 2022


 End of Summer

I love the end of summer

This quasi autumn

Before the leaves turn

When it seems everything

Has settled into its

Form of final being 

Not too hot

Not too cold

A heaven ignorant of hell

A god who never met his devil

Crickets chirping with jazz trio confidence

While the birds seem to know they have plenty of time.

Nature’s done producing

But nothing is ready to be sold 

Nothing is dying yet

And nothing is being born

It's as close as we get to a painting

Where everything we see

Has come to timeless fruition

Nostalgia has narrowed

Down to a sliver containing 

Only what is right now 

This cracked sidewalk

And a sense that we're all

Just kind of stalling.

Kids rattling by on bikes

While someone’s mother is calling

Even in the evening breeze

The languorous leaves scorn

Warnings of a falling 


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