Early August

The morning garden chatter spoke
Of the ripening chokecherries:
In a week the firm green berries
Have become a plump burgundy.

Soon after the fledglings have flown
The annual gathering begins
With errant flights of drunkenness;
Ending in somber discussions
Of migratory timeliness.

Born late, the young, quickly aging
Summer heat can already hear
Autumn softly knocking at its door.
Each day green leaves show more yellow
On their journey to red then brown
And the chill felt evening breezes
Remind my lazy August dreams
That the soon to be falling leaves
Will be followed by drifting snow.

Continue to "Perseid Meteor Showers"
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