Autumn began and
I sat and listened to the
cars rushing somewhere
along some busy road
beyond the fences and yards
of the neighborhood
and to the birds
peeping intermittently
checking in on one another
like like bellhops at the
tree motel
There were sirens, also,
and there was some hammering
Autumn began and
I sat and watched while
the sky faded and the light
drained away like bath water
a whispering shush
of the hint of a cool breeze
breathing off the sprinkled lawn
I watched purple become
grey-blue then grey
then something darker
the color of soot
and everything green
followed suit
until the solar sensor
caught up and the patio
bulbs clicked on with a flicker
so a warm yellow glow
wrapped around me and
punctuated the shadows
Autumn began and
I pretended that the traffic
noise was a river in such
a hurry that it had smoothed out
all rocky and vegetable
obstacles, so it could flow
speedily and unobstructed with
one swift continuous sound
all babbling drawn tightly
to a hush
I made believe that the land
that I claim is mine
stretched beyond the wooden
fence encompassing lakes
and mountains hidden from view
Autumn began and
I fooled myself
for a pleasant little while
that the tick of minutes from
8:02 to 8:03 marked a sudden
change, and that it hasn’t
been creeping on with a knowing
smile for weeks,
all year,
just waiting in the background
as it always does
for its slow
implacable
turn
Thank you, readers!
The Poetry Patio 