Although it’s almost autumn
And the stands are stacked with mums,
It somehow feels like we’ve been stuck
With summer’s unswept crumbs.
For temps are in the 70’s,
So folks are wearing shorts;
And baseball scores are still a part
Of all the sports reports.
There’s watermelon in the stores
And burgers on the grill;
Mosquitoes buzz around the screens,
Their thirst for blood to fill.
Yet shops are decked for Halloween
And football season’s started.
Ice cream trucks have hushed their bells
And for the south departed.
The almost-fall’s confusing.
We’re betwixt and we’re between;
But Mother Nature, with her paintbrush,
Soon will intervene.
When oaks and elms and maples
Sport their red or russet hues,
Then autumn will be here for real
And we won’t have to choose.