too long the summer sun beats down.
burning grasses into brown.
igniting dreams of shallow pools
blues and greens of mossy cools.

leafy shaded places, few.
noontime's arrival drunk on dew.
lingering long overhead
till thirsty flowers wilt in bed.

tired gardens rearrange.
harking the call of season's change.
growing in longer hours
are pumpkin vines and burnt sunflowers.

blindly then the June bugs falls.
September in the distance calls.
August dry and almost faint
the trees bring out their autumn paint.

11/20/2001

Posted on 11/20/2001
Copyright © 2024 Mary Ellen Smith