Late summer

Wrinkled black maple leaves fall on the ground

Green crab apples dot the fruit trees (again)

Orange sun dips and dims ever slowly, a clock

unwinds, music when soft voices die-

The season in transition begins -

a limerence - short-lived- with nature

Joy in all its exuberance as rain

pouring down, refreshing as cold ice on hot day

Wilting petals, incomplete poems & unopened books

remind me that birds will soon fly south of the border

I'll bottle up this music of birdsongs

& sweetness of child's laughter in the park

The smell of smoke from grilled meats

lingers, as well as the crisp evening air that drapes the sky

With autumn grey.    With a coat, I sip warm chocolate, 

inhaling the last of summer blooms & harvest of fruits

Music, when soft voices die,

Vibrates in the memory—

–Percy Bysshe Shelley, Music when soft voices die (Note/Credit to the poet)

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - August Transitions, hosted by Merril D. Smith.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

September

 

a quiet settles

on parks, playgrounds &

wheat field

where do we purchase

to prolong this summer light

& savor the glorious coat of green

we count the wild sun-

flowers & goldenrods yellowing the trail

& wild teasels, with their empty

seed heads, bowing to the cool wind

we fold sorrows 

in deep pockets

as old letters fade

delicate as amber veins

on a fallen maple leaf

the hours go on, un-

shaken by mortal breath,

under the bridge, the river flows un-

tallowed by our thoughts 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Thank you for your visits and comments.