I’ve taken the time, these last few days of summer,
to visit my favorite haunts, the beloved
and familiar places, to bid the season farewell.
The trail through the woods is lined with gold
and trimmed with bits of crimson. The first
fallen leaves crunch beneath my boots. Still,
the green prevails and shocks of goldenrod
continue to hold the sun. The earth feels hungry
and eager, as if the first scattering of leaves
has whetted its appetite for the great feast
about to come. In the warm air, a fragrance
unique to autumn drifts leisurely by.
A squirrel sits on a stump munching
on a pine cone. A hawk soars overhead
as high as the clouds heaped in the sky.
It’s a perfect moment, a jewel of transitioning
seasons. I touch the leathery green skin
of an oak leaf, whispering to this last day
of summer my heartfelt thanks and farewell.