summer drifted off by itself
almost without notice
slipping over the green hills
leaving september
to change the world
to brown and orange
morning wake up is cold now
like a splash from lake superior
the shock of autumn crawls in
the old drops away exhausted
dried and crisp returning
to origin earth
to feed new life
seagulls hiding above the whitecaps
rolling carpet blue
breaking for the shore
fresh winds from the northwest
deliver an early arctic chill
blowing the tops right off the poplars
leaving them naked
to face the future
canada geese streaming south
past the harbor light
over the deep wooded foothills
quiet broken
by the honker victory chorus
the footloose drifters
bondless spirits
the survivors
rejoicing wailing
into the sunset
i am their brother
--- e b bortz
(published in Voices of a Wanderer, 1993)
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2 comments:
Love the roll and power surging thru the words. The end line brings into into focus of unity.
thanks.
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