Sunday, September 18, 2011
wistful
Speak breeze, of autumn pleasures.Gentle leaves twisting this way and down.Full moon brilliant on the lawn;squirrels crashing through the dried leaves,summer love coming to a time together deprived end.Shorter days and deeper sleep.
The color of pumpkins is something that I see nowhere else in this startlingly clear air.And then the last rain will take the leaves away and remove any trace of warmth.
The falling leaves in Georgia do not in anyway compare with the brillance of the trees up North.I have gotten used to the more muted hues and a few years ago ,found the foliage in New York to be gaudy.But maybe I was just consoling myself because I miss there in this season.
I recall romances coming to an end after summer and missing the presence of special loves."The sunburned hands I used to hold...." There is a wistful tenor to this change that is coming;I can't say why. Who would want to stay in the heat for a second longer?For now I will just hear the sounds and feel the coolness.
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2 comments:
Sharon, I have so missed your posts... this is beautiful...
glad you are back...
Ry
When I was at school in Tennesee, the fall colors used to amaze me. Driving by the mountains and seeing all the different colors on those big hills was so beautiful after, as you say, these muted Georgia colors. People would give me funny looks though-they were obviously used to them.
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