Waiting for Summer's Flight

Summer's End by Marion Rose

I have sat here before

and watched the summer days

falter before my eyes

and have seen their short-spanned lives

suck the last sweet breath

from between the lips of the sky

as globes of sunlight

peach-orange and golden-yellow

crept upon rolling waves

one by one

And one by one

I took my breaths

swept life off her feet

and into my quickening lungs

and listened as my pulse rushed

silver inside my veins

while the cobalt-blue waters

watched me clasp my craving arms

around my singing bones

and tremble in summer-love’s orgasm

knowing

If I waited long enough

I would hear the copper wail of fall

coming from afar

stumbling upon its own feet

charging across the drought

of this glaring ground

tossing red and gold gifts

to whomever wished to receive

twining its throbbing legs

with the awaiting earth

Thrusting its fluttering arms

into all things far and wide

and today I sit

still and statuesque

tranquil and beautiful

open and serene

waiting for summer’s flight

to stretch itself

about my quivering silhouette

and touch me

one last time.