Sunday, September 22, 2013

The Last Rose of Summer.

Today is the equinox,
the first day of autumn.

From now on,
there will be no more fresh peaches,
no more sandal tan lines
on the tops of my feet,
no more mosquito bites
on the back of my legs
from lingering in the warm dusk.

For a few weeks it's been coming,
but I couldn't let summer

Now, though, the alignment of the planets
has forced me to accept it.

So last night,
Genevieve and I created our own ritual
to bid farewell to summer.
I can accept these things better
when there's a formal
changing of the guard.

We put on long floral dresses
and walked the stream path at night,
gathering flowers and plants,
and weaving them into wreaths.

Russian olive,
and the last roses of summer.

We sang hymns about nature,
and quoted poems and scriptures:

Nature's first green is gold, 
Her hardest hue to hold. 
Her early leafs a flower; 
But only so an hour. 
Then leaf subsides to leaf. 
So Eden sank to grief, 
So dawn goes down to day. 

I woke up and it was autumn.
I was glad to see that it was raining.
I put on boots
and listened to the appropriate movement
of Vivaldi's Four Seasons
and ate oatmeal for breakfast.

Farewell, summer.
Until next year.

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