Late Summer

Late Summer

Waiting for the bus,gazing softly at the row
of small trees at the other side of the street
birch,aspen,maple
the wind plays with them, I notice
how different they dance, in rhythm and manners
In another world I might hear it as music
here I am satisfied with the color-show:
the lime and ocher, the flashy burgundy and crimson
the dark brown ones with black spots
like old old hands
I look at the dancing leaves
leaving summer

suddenly, there’s the sun
shining right through the leaves –
the yellow ones now
gold gold gold

I stop breathing
I want to be found
and shone through like that
before winter comes

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Mona Gustafson Affinito
    Oct 03, 2016 @ 14:32:50

    You are talented. I love this. And I love the wish at the end. Thanks

    Reply

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Please note that nothing written here is intended as medical advice. Readers who think that they need help with a physical or psychological condition are advised to seek a qualified opinion.

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