“Autumn leaf gliders pile up their brittle bodies against the blackened curbs; both hug and death throes.” — Glenn A, Buttkus.
Autumn shrugs off summer’s coat
leaves its leaves when it’s coldest
which is strange. Surely hibernation
is better when your shoulders are toasty?
But the trees want to sleep without clothes
and slumber like the cryogenically frozen
a stupefied darkness of cellular nourishment.
I witness the middling of hot heavy June
and know how soon the numbered days
will shimmer and disappear
into the rustic hug of fall
growing rainbow rugged
as summer’s last laugh dies
and echoes in its throes.
A timely storm of seasons never forget their appointment.
Erstwhile, the man-made cracks in the pavement
belie its hardiness.
destined to crumble.
Nature, the more sophisticated maker
would smooth it over
in kindly greens
for she always prevails.
And though autumn would shake off
her gorgeous final curtain
let fly her romantic debris
as she turns over to ready
herself for reincarnation
she will still cause a riot
as she fat-lady-sings out of the door
before finally giving up the ghost.
Then enter winter
who smiles wetly in the rain
is dancing only with him
to warm the earth again.
© N Nazir 2021
Written for dVerse Poetry Prompt: Exploring Minimalist Photos with dVerse host Sanaa Rizvi, and photos provided by Glenn Buttkuss.
Task: pick one from the selection provided and pen a response to it.
I chose No. 4 as seen above.