Summery

Summer is ending. So says splattered pigments of change. Leaves scatter and fall, filling the asphalt and gutters. Acorns split open as scavengers pick their remains. The air snips: crisp.

Pools finally open, three months too late. Children play in shallow blue for that single day. A sorrow farewell to a sorry summer.

Autumn sends promising kisses. its breath brushes my cheeks, flushes my skin. Rosy pink or raspberry red, I cannot see. Only the buses understand: shudder.

Mabon is near; Halloween my Witches. The final harvest is among us. Soon the change will snap. Done. Soon the trees will match again. Bare.

Hope shrugs, arms open. Welcome Fall.

Blink: Thanks. Roasts for four and Zoom calls across borders. A single grateful trip. Calendar: flip.

Winter yawns, passing sweet slumber. A time, clicking to a halt.

Sharp teeth bite skin despite several layers of fast fashion. Still, under sheets of half-frozen sleets, Spring awaits.

The clock slows. Tick Tick Tock

POP grows the green grass. Pickled patterns of rebirth. Warm. Warmer. And warmer still. The hearth passes the reins.

Inhale frost. Exhale Spring. Flowers. Bees buzzing to battle. Life flies faster.

Faster. Faster (and faster [and faster still]).

The sun blazing blades of rebellion. Jeans shrink; sleeves become strings. Skin praises, burns melts.

Fall again.

*Poem originally published in Dead Tree Hallucinating. Available on Kindle and Amazon.