Of Threads and Things...

They weave through green-leaf spire

Where burnished breezes strum

And aching hearts inquire

Of moments, whence they come

Or where they hurry-scurry

As cricket-song ignites

Awareness of an hour

Infringing azure heights

Stealing blooms from the garden

Snuffing sunflower’s smile

Spilling cadence of autumn

To Augusts’ sanguine guile

I’ve seen its mystic candor

Turn boy into a man

Or watched as ribbons scatter

Where once a wee girl ran

And yet, it seems we’re touching

Those threads weaving their art

We feel a tender tugging

On ribbons ‘round the heart

Firsts pass and who can tether

The span twixt first and last?

As moments thread together

Future, present, then past

Slipping through phantom fingers

Love’s laughter and its tears

Echo where footfalls linger

In the aftermath of years

And all that we can hope for

As seasons ebb and flow

Is strength to hold our loved ones

And strength to let them go

For in the dusty dripping

Of August ilk, sun-spun

We sense the silent slipping

Of a summer almost done

© Janet Martin

 This morning it was 10 degrees C. and very cool all day.I wore a coat to pick beans. THAT is a first! The mind is wrenched from summer to autumn!..but it sounds like summer will return in a few days:)