grass still lushes on the lawn
drinking summer’s rains
and yet leaves begin to litter
yellow evidence of the chill of September
and we bring in tomatoes
ripe on dying vines
and potatoes buried
beneath stalks of sticks
and we bid farewell to
long warm evenings of sun
skin contracting
to brave the cold that’s coming
so how long yet can we lush
as time moves on unhindered
by dug-in heels
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