Summer's Withered Bloom
The carcass of beauty spent and done
picked clean by the scavengers of time;
whose fading memories of summer
ask for no quarter and offer none.
Winter winds tango with scattered leaves
in step with a different drummer;
spinning fragments of color and light
into chromatic threads, Autumn weaves.
A scarecrow showing signs of neglect,
looks outlandish, with no crops in sight;
a hobo haphazardly homespun,
on guard, with naught but mud to protect.
When fledgling goslings learn how to fly,
geese follow the monarch butterfly;
and flock south, their honks splitting the sky,
bidding Summer's withered bloom goodbye.
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