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"