Poem: Musings on Autumn

Leaves break free, fly in the wind,

scattering, scattering. Silhouettes bank

against chipping, cracked brick buildings.

Leaves play a whirling dervish beneath the 

sun’s mercurial tempers.

Under a maple tree I sit while red souls

of summer’s spent drop onto my

windshield as shadows dance on the

dashboard—my arms, my face, and

I think of pumpkin pie, log fires,

football games and Halloween. 

Autumn’s nostalgia fades to cliché,

like memories of Maw Maw’s threadbare

Sunday dress, like my vacant thoughts.

Even wistful melodies eventually play out,

as do autumn leaves, as do laughing

children jumping in autumn leaves, 

and love.

                                      by Patty Cole