After Labour Day
After Labour Day
summer sizzled
pressure of humanity
has retreated into the city like a
mollusk into its shell
the stillness is echoed from
the bark of a farm dog, the call
of coyote in the grain fields
hunting geese gleaning wheat
wolf song from deep
within the woods
all of the wild world shudders
as if to shake loose bindings of fear
breathes a sigh of relief mistaken
for lazy winds with last warmth
Sounds have changed no longer voices
calling children homefrom the water
or the happy chatter of sun-sated
worshippers comparing browns
returning to the scent of grills cooking dinner
now the chatter of waring squirrels
stealing each others acorns
to fill frigid bellies come winter,
geese are packing up the goslings
for their first flight south
I smile my widest selfish grin
sitting on the porch glorying
in the, finally alone-ness, of it all
mine now through the somber months
but not before the flame of winter’s kiss
brings the glory of spectacular endings
to my door..
Copyright © Patricia Cresswell | Year Posted 2017
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