a faint drum is beating,
marking time
the end of summer draws near
the return of the wild aster tells me so
with its soft, billowing, cascading white
spilling into the wood
morning and evening chill is setting in
i sit in peace on my front porch
sipping lapsang souchong from a chipped teacup
its smoky, woodsy aroma echoing the autumnal tones in the air
there is a banjo music playing in my head
cricket calls are fading
cold this eve
so i've made plans for a late night moonwalk
down the meandering dirt road.
i took my favorite wool sweater from atop the closet shelf today
the one my husband knitted for my birthday
i'll walk to the apple tree just behind the row of mailboxes
it's full of fruit a bright red
how did i miss them grow and turn to flame?
it seems too soon
just a little too soon
but i am in love all the same
