Fall trails the hem of Time’s Unknown on pastures; its
attire
Scuttles down boulevards, huddles at fence-line thoroughfares
In scattered tatters; the chatter of leaves and sheaves
expire
Fall’s hall is like a ballroom strewed with laughter’s empty
chairs
The noise that spawned the joys of June is snuffed; summer
estranged
In this strangely familiar Unfamiliarity
Like the return to childhood’s home where the walls have not
changed
And everything yet nothing is the way it used to be
The door to More-of-what-has-been yet never has before
Swings wide; dawn is a bride with dreamy eyes and beaming
blush
Earth teems with guests; the barrenness of autumn’s corridor
A metaphor; nature’s preacher hails from bald bloom and bush
Ecclesiastic proclamation fills earth’s promenade
Above, beneath and all around surges truth’s testament
Illustrious, new ‘good-old-days’ are waiting to be made
We, the laypeople of fall’s challenge glimpse Astonishment
The wind is restless, dashing to and fro with hasted breath
Like the flurried hurry of folk with too much on their minds
Above, beneath and all around the acrid taste of death
Spirals in leaf swirls and smoke curls; a burlesque tie that
binds
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!