Last Call

A lonely yellow butterfly flits along a crisp fall breeze as other life forms seek out a warm refuge from the approaching night's freeze. Rigor mortise leaves lie shapeless in corpse patterns on my uncut late autumn lawn like soldiers lost in battle, all helpless to the coming elements of an Ohio winter. Naked trees reveal a last nest or two swaying in the breeze like abandoned tiny tenements quietly awaiting Mothers next season of rentals.