I sometimes hesitate to post poems to my blog... worried my work will somehow not stay my own. But it also seems a shame not to share it... especially since the last few days have had that moody fall quality to them...
Coming home to September
My garden has tomatoes for days
the season of last,
lingering.
The daylight hours, not.
I close my eyes, and the warmth still feels like summer…
memories of August.
remnants of red leaves are scatted on my porch,
like a secret between
me and Fall.
“I’m coming”
I browse the neighborhood, which is still holding verdant,
as the seasons days begin to dwindle
and I wonder where they started their journey.
I am finishing my own… at least for today,
As I come home to
September.
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