August: Flickers of the Fall to Come

PotentillaToday there were flickers of fall.
I spied them in the curled leaves beneath our cherry tree, its crown still green.
I smelled them in the air, both brisk and sour.
I felt them on my feet which brushed against the dew.
I wore the flickers in my spine, which hunched today to force the weight of fall away.

Fall away.

Fall comes on by pieces that fall away.

Stores replace their picnic wares with school supplies.
With college students coming back to town, our quiet streets and nights are gone.
Road projects finish. New ones are not begun.
Absences show me that the wheel has spun.

It always spins, and yet the wheel of time is not a well-marked rim.
A season is always starting or at its end, and glints of other seasons always flicker in.

Begone, nostalgia.
There are more seeds than flowers, but flowers still abound.
Let it be August, fair and square.
Let August own its rights to summer sun, as well as flickers of the fall to come.


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