Cusp of autumn

A hint of autumntaste of falling leaves,unsung tearsnature’s fashion show of the yearhas just begun.A tint of yellowon the trees: dawn is crispand dusk comes swiftlylike a clearing on the throatof early August.The feathers ruffle on the geesebaby swallow’s swoopacross the wiresdreaming of open African skiesdeserts we won’t ever see.A hint of melancholycomes to me rememberingthe beginning of the yearall we were to do before timelike the swallowsstole away the light.