As Seasons Change
Which is it?....
An ending, or a beginning?
Seasons, circling around each other like rustling leaves...
Which one steals the show, takes the glory?
With crimson crepe myrtle blossoms bursting
Yet struggling, hanging on in spite of north wind blowing.
With leaves falling, acorns dropping bouncing off a winding concrete path
The promise of a different landscape, sits on the horizon....
Sun ripe skies, still clear, yet clouds of change are watching....waiting patiently
Early morning chillness,...rosy, amber evenings
Swimming holes, sandy beaches, mountain hikes...still alive by afternoon light
Memory of watermelon still lingers...sweet on the tongue
But quietly, a fond return, like the welcome home of old friendships...
Are cooler nights and shorter days
Of pumpkins turned from green to gold, crisp apples almost ready to pick
Greasy barbecues, pushed in corners, lawn chairs stacked on garage rafters
The fragrant burning of logs, chimney's coming alive with smoke
Books, pencils, notebooks, lunch pails, bright yellow buses
Stadiums filled, Friday night lights,
Popping corn and chili beans, casseroles, and steaming mugs
One last day at the beach, closing with chill in the evening air
And ending....or a beginning......circling 'round each other once more
like rustling leaves....
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