August takes a charming turn,
strong warm wind rattling
the early fallen dried leaves
orchestrating clouds for the sun’s
dance of veils, its radiant reveals
echoed in the shimmer of the trees

It tastes of something slightly serious,
a little exciting,
acceleration of increasing slope
down the season’s shoulder

It’s still summer, sun-warmed ripe blackberries
invoking pie all along the trail, and everyone
is hurriedly laying down memories,
like putting the summer’s fruits by,
catching the sweetness
so it can keep them warm
when winter comes.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 20, 2017