Cusp of autumn

A hint of autumn
taste of falling leaves,
unsung tears
nature’s fashion show of the year
has just begun.

A tint of yellow
on the trees: dawn is crisp
and dusk comes swiftly
like a clearing on the throat
of early August.

The feathers ruffle on the geese
baby swallow’s swoop
across the wires
dreaming of open African skies
deserts we won’t ever see.

A hint of melancholy
comes to me remembering
the beginning of the year
all we were to do before time
like the swallows

stole away the light.

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3 thoughts on “Cusp of autumn

  1. Glenn Buttkus says:

    A terrific piece, Victoria; fresh and
    interesting. I love the lines:
    /dreaming of open African skies/
    deserts we won’t ever see/.
    It is wistful, yet not weepy, tinged
    with regrets like those leaves on
    Montana trees right now.

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