a daylily is opening beside tomorrow’s bud.
A robin tends her two hungry nestlings.
The sun emerges from behind a cloud.
Peppermint, thyme and sage lose their perfume.
Standing outside in pairs, people are crying.
Year’s end always sends thoughts into the past.
Review and reflection. Celebrations and regrets. Conclusions.
But briefly. Then to a future near
and far but all unclear, unformed, undetermined.
Momentarily, no present. No now. No self.
That first leaf to abandon the summer –
at first I thought it was sad,
giving up early because of a few
cool days. But tonight, it feels brave.
Letting it end before it must end.
I picked apples and the last tomato,
but there are still plenty in stores.
And they will be there all winter,
but my brain and body knows it’s
apple time and some things are ending.
Not autumn but days of falling off.
Dropping things that seem no longer needed.
The world still green but not evergreen.
Emanating from the soil and the sun,
endings, dry and hollow, dying and dead.