Well, it's half-past September.
Autumn and Fall are having their annual jurisdictional dispute
As to boundaries and length of contract.
The leaves are either burnt, flaming, a-flame,
Blushing, scarlet, rosy, rusty, reddish, or foxy.
The pumpkins are waiting for Charlie Brown and Linus to show,
The Witches Coven Convention will convene at month’s end.
The flowers are retreating, slowly, each hoping to linger
Into one more warming sunrise.
A few diligent honey bees wait to greet them.
School buses hunt for unwary children.
Books bid them “come, join me,
Let us travel past the crusted cover into the realm of the imagination”.
A thin crust of ice will soon silence the pond.
September, caught between the aura of Autumn and the fire of Fall,
Smiles as its gentle breezes call the tune.
I wonder if the “gods” have a union
a collective bargaining unit of sorts
to protect the language of their contracts,
mediate jurisdictional disputes,
proclaim that “all gods shall be compensated
in direct proportion to their minions devotion.
The “god” union would also have to discourage
any of the “gods” from breaking off to start another union
offering better or more lenient conditions.
Perhaps less severe response to crossing jurisdictional lines
allowing the minions to decide what union to join
which “god” to serve.
But wait, wouldn’t that open the door
for “open shop gods” who recognized no unions,
compensated “their” minions unequally,
offered little training, or job security?
But wait, shouldn’t all minions have the right
to work for any “god” they choose?
Who are these entrepreneurial “un-gods”
who choose to go it alone,
demand a slice of the celestial pie
and become a “god” unto themselves.
John G. Lawless
©11/24/2021