Wednesday, April 2, 2008


Autumn’s nearly done.
Fresh green’s showing
through the dried stalks.

Pumpkin vines

are withering away

from their plump,

green-grey fruit.

The last of the chestnuts

are gathered wearily.

The swan plants

have been stripped

down to their stems

and green monarch chrysalises

hang on the lemon tree,

slowly darkening.

My tongue presses against
the roof of my mouth.
The last handful of blueberries,
warmed to full sweetness
in the heat of the season,
taste of hot sun,
of summer swimming,
of the new baby,
of the newly weds,
of dancing under the stars
of singing and laughter.

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