Now That July 4th is Over, I Can't Stop Thinking About Fall

A rustle of leaves, the slightest transition,

changing colors, greens to yellows, crisper winds rolling in.

Start-of-summer is closing, every plant and animal on a mission:

Stay cool, gather food, fatten up, shed skin.

Snow will not fall for quite awhile,

it's much too early, much too hot.

We have at least four months, but still, I smile

at the thought of entering late summer... I almost forgot

the familiar buzzing whine of cicadas,

the sizzle of pavement in bustling parking lots,

the way my father pronounced "tomatoes" as "tomatas,"

the rhythmic dripping of rainwater from flower pots,

the cacophonous chirping of mockingbirds and wrens,

the perfume of phlox and sage in rich green fields,

the perfect flip of a burger amidst the laughter of friends,

and the gleam of the spatula my master chef of a partner wields.

The summer vibes are in full swing,

but even in the midst of the moisture and heat,

I can't help but think of one, impending thing:

Autumn is knocking, soon we will meet.

Soon, we'll be hearing the sharp caw of crows,

seeing the foliage rust over, peppered with garnet, jasper and gold,

feeling the air lighten up as the temperature shrinks and the dryness grows,

and smelling the sweet notes of squash and powdery nectar of marigold.

Summer begins, and soon enough,

July 4th passes us by,

and it can be endlessly tricky, ridiculously tough,

to embrace fall without batting an eye.

But late summer is the tipping point,

when all the seasonal memories flood in,

it is not an ending, but a checkpoint,

so take it on the chin.

Welcome every bright, familiar feeling

late summer inspires.

At least for me, there is true happiness, even healing

when autumn arrives and summer retires.