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What's All The S--- About Glorious Freakin' Autumn? 

Why all the waxing beatific over colored leaves?

And pulling out gnarly sweaters

from ten years ago in hopes they'll resemble

the current fluffy flock of

boiled wool smelly pullovers?

All the petunias shriveling,

teetering pathetically on

scrawny browned stems

like old men on tanned limbs,

embarrassed alongside

predictable mums wearing couture colored faces

Everyone sauntering with

thick socks showing

bragging about cool nights and good sleeping

or the smell of wood stove's hickory stink

(as though ham were in vogue)

Summer's vegetables sprawl exhausted

like swollen nine month women

everyone giving or receiving or cooking

or baking or refusing or throwing away...zucchini.

exchanging recipes and "putting up"

Paranoid squirrels careen

from tree to shaking tree

miserly gathering acorns

pitching excess on our heads

Everyone is looking brown and orange

And the mandatory talk about

winter's coming

and snow and ice

old accidents

new trepidations

Winters that were,

childhoods that weren't

mitten clips, chapped lips

cold feet looking for warm feet

pumpkin pies, garlic jam

raking leaves, runny noses

What's all the s--- about glorious freaking autumn?

  • A poem by Fern Suess.

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