Autumn Still-Life
Perching on a fencepost, the meadowlark calls
in sweet trilling tones like a solo marimba.
I mimic her voice and watch her curiosity
as I stroll among the goldenrod and yarrow,
the pathway winding through a welcoming maze
of autumn wildflowers wanting to be noticed
before the cold north wind nips their heads
and turns golden brown their long-legged stems.
The sweet scent of summer honeysuckle lingers
though their bright orange blossoms are gone,
but I still faintly hear the rapid fluttering wings
of hummingbirds who overstayed their welcome,
hurriedly fleeing before October’s chilly breath.
Touching the raspy edges of a Queen Anne’s Lace,
I pluck a stem or two for a neglected vase.
My heart smiles contentedly.
I long to see the meadow white with early snow.
Written December 9, 2022
Submitted to "Still-Life Autumn Scene" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
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