A leaf or two each day
Drifts down off tired trees;
Flocks of birds
Glean what they can
From parched lawns;
A difference in the clouds
Hints it’s not August
Anymore. We see
Ripening fruit and seeds,
Later dawns.
The heat of afternoon
May still be summerlike;
But in our hearts and bones
We recognize that autumn
Isn’t far away.
©2015 John I. Blair
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