ole buttermilk sky,
last dregs of Summer
hang heavy from the leaf.
people start to say,
“I’m ready for Fall”
after the blackberries
have all burned up. wet,
fat clouds float flat-
bottomed across the
sky and we daydream
of dark nights and
cool, crunchy leaves
on the sidewalks.
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That’s glorious – economical, precisely observed and sensuous!
thanks john!
good one