Odd over ripe days of late August-
Heat drifts by in waves to be washed out
In the darkening dusk.
The sultry night cools minute by minute
As the earth tilts towards the autumnal equinox.
We sit on the porch eating peaches,
The last fruit of the orchard
Now swept of debris.
Only the wasps and bees remain
Still searching for that last drop
Of sweet succulent summer.
*revised*
it is still July but the season has changed
and rabbits have had their way with my garden
raping and pillaging as they went
a castle over run
and I am left a distressed damsel
after the dragon has lost interest
and flown away
leaving only singed bones
of caladiums and daisies
such is a fairy tale from a summer afternoon
when the air has softened
and summers heat has turned down a notch
and the only dragons in the garden
fly on gossamer wings
schooling thru the soon to be autumn
air
Ahh summer…thy breath has the scent of ripe peaches warm from the sun.
The first cobbler of the summer is beauteous to behold! ( and also to eat with a bit of vanilla ice cream -mmmmmmm)
A cloud on a hot July day
gives the illusion of coolness in its shadow
but it never drops rain
or the temperature
or even a breeze to evaporate the sweat
as it trickles.
Across the brittle landscape, rabbits pant in the heat
as the asphalt rises in the yeast of the sun
to bloom sticky and black.
Writhing along the road, dust devils
stir up depressions where the small brown sparrows bathe.
Its hot
and the song of heat swells
in the throats of cicadas. Or is it wings
or appendages that rasp the tune?
Shimmering pale blue water rises
on the road. The heats playing oasis
in this desert of an afternoon. A mirage,
an illusion, a forfeiture of the senses,
summers sleight of hand. A cloud
on a hot July day.
The garden has gone feral,
briar and bind weed rise
over violets rampant with deep green hearts-
swords of hardy dandelions
wave in triumph.
Wild with heavy shadow and leaf,
the woods spill
across the wet summer meadow.
Late summer grasses
wave verdant and strong
as young men in springtime.
Hayfields green.
ready for third harvest-
sighs of scythes
echo across the meadow.
The sharp retort of the jays cries
strike the air,
his grief too much for the cedars to bear.
What greater woe is there
than summers ebb?
Yellowing leaves, spent and melancholy,
rain down
as though weeping,
for their passing will soon be forgotten
in winters bare and spare air.
The elegies of wing and wind-
the sighing trees sorrow
in the mourning doves song
of summers passing.
evening lingers
lush humid air scented of cedar
and calls of whippoorwills
*
summer stars lean in closer
checking out the competition
sparking fireflies
*
grating percussion
first cicadas of the season
summer jazz concert
The scent of sun is in your hair
with the salt smell from the waves
crashing onto the shore.
Waters sparkles in sunglints
and bursts into flame in the clear blue
sky of your eyes.
Heat rises with the day
light and sun glow on your skin.
Above us, the gulls call to the sea
and the wild sound of surf pounds
in my breast.
Startled, I wake from a dream of the ocean
to cries of gulls wheeling in the icy air
and the chill of winter in your eyes.
The light has lost its harsh intensity.
Earth’s tilt has nudged the sun
into an angle
less summer
and more autumn.
Setting the changing leaves
into a different hue
perfect for the falls rubies
and gold.
Walking the gravel path
on this last summers evening,
we talk in low voices
so as not to disturb the flowers
and the butterflies, busy
with their own seasons changes.
I am anxious to shed this summer-
its days long
and its light, too intrusive.
Autumn will cool my brow
and give my weary eyes rest
until I can sleep in winters
long dark night.
cool morning breeze
plays a quiet tune thru the windchimes
Sunday morning hymn
***
blue jays
shouting from cedar top to cedar top
Invocation
***
first golden leaves
gently fall to the ground
Sunday morning offertory
***
meadow grasses
golden and heavy with seed
bowing in the morning breeze
Prayers of thanksgiving
***
late summer drought
brings the first color of autumn
sassafras leaves & sheaves of sumac
Benediction
***
thecourseofourseasons 