By art dog artdog28@webtv.net
Date: 31 August 1999

Hurry Fall

Last night there was a hint in the air,
the internal metronome of the seasons is changing tune.
This morning in the heat of the sun
a cool wind sharpened the senses, 
Fall is near.
     The dream of fiery maples and elms,
     the red of the oaks,
     apples, wool sweaters and caramel on my cheek.

A moment of clarity comes with that breeze-
Where has my summer gone?
I vaguely remember the heat of July,
the joy in the lenghtening days of June.
What happened in August?

I have lost my summer to a memory of spring-
     A vision of sunlight broken by spring green               brilliance on swaying branches,
     a smile as equally brilliant, her face aimed high,
     long dark hair being adorned by half-a-fingers
     length of lime green thread capped with tiny 
     flowers as they rain to the ground 
     in search of rich, fertile beds.

Huryy Fall.  Let me enjoy the departing migration of that feathered dream.