Sunday, July 31, 2016

A Promise

Stuck to my kitchen floor
On the last day of July
While rain distorts the windowpanes,
And thunder rattles the rafters,
Is a red leaf.











Bright like the Fourth of July,
Humble as pine straw,
I thought it was a squashed fig.
My heart sprung at the thought
Of summer over,
Of stormy Autumn,
Of chilly November,
While weather bellows overhead
Of a brief break in the oppression
Of furnace days and sticky nights.
The leaf whispers,
'Soon, soon!'

Copyright by the author
July 31, 2016

5 comments:

Lisa Richards said...

Fall means the tourists go home!! Yay! (That's a big deal to those of us who live in small towns that are overrun with tourists all summer!)

Gumbo Lily said...

Lovely poem.
I'm not ready for fall yet.

Kezzie said...

Gorgeous words Mk but Autumn cam stay on vacation a bit longer if that's ok!

happyone said...

A lovely poem.
I'm not quite ready for the cold weather yet. Our summers here are lovely and feel like one long spring.

Mary Ann Potter said...

How very lovely! I too have seen my first red leaf on the forest floor. Autumnal hope springs eternal! We were in the mountains near Asheville yesterday to celebrate my mother-in-law's 100th birthday, and it was cooler and fresher there. Still warm for the area, though.