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?
