Since Equinox the days are getting
noticeably and flowers fight for one last bloom,
one last stand to ward off autumn.
they stick their buds and blossoms
out towards a weakened sun, hanging askew
and far away in a much paler sky.
And when the rain comes streaming down
in sheets of sheer but solid wetness
their heads hang sad and heavy
like slaves awaiting punishment
towards a soaked and cold and used up ground.
Petals fall onto the golden leafs
of mighty sugar maples standing tall
coloured foliage and blackened trunks.
And then a sweet and gentle wind strokes
quietly across the battered land,
dries tenderly the heavy drops from
bending stems and laden flower heads.
Bees appear, perhaps for one last time,
to drink their fill of nectar sweet and sticky.
The sun leaves earlier yet at every evening
And shows up later every coming dawn.
Sybille, late September 2002
Copyright ©2004 Sybille Forster-Rentmeister