Yellow Season
yellow leaves hang like old flyers
for bands that broke up decades ago
orange veins split
along the cold ground’s scars,
last color before the gray takes hold
a cool breeze
threads the season’s last breath
through busted porch screens
now the country coughs again
through exhaust and empty cabinets,
through plastic flags
flapping over pawnshops
still—those yellow leaves,
they don’t quit easy
~Brent R. Grimes
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