Tuesday, September 21, 2021

Autumn Equinox

 

by G. Jack Urso

 


in mid-August, the leaves begin to change


an almost imperceptible metamorphosis


then, the first flocks of geese honks its way south

 


by late-September the crickets still holding on


are stragglers who’ve yet to find mates


their once deafening sound slowly surrenders to silence

 


bodies of water release the warmth


they’ve gathered all summer long


as fog when the cold mornings set in

 


reaping, the Harvest Moon 


gathers what was sown


leaving the Earth brown and withered

 


the summer season sloughs off


just as winter knocks


on the door of the autumn equinox 


●             ●             ●


2 comments:

  1. An ending, or a beginning. . .Enjoyed the poem, best poem I've read in decades. The pictures of the moon give the piece that tangible visual element.

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