Autumn Dream
Leaves dress up in lipstick red and lemon gold to dance in wind that chills the bones. One by one, leaves kiss the ground, goodbye to summer’s blooms. Too soon, the leaves will crinkle brown and crumble to the touch. Autumn isn’t long enough to tire of time that turns to ash in fireplaces, not long enough to pull out sweaters hidden from the heat. I’d like more days of sun that slants and sleeps in teacups cooling in my hands. Autumn is a dream that ends in white.
Too soon
I’ll wake
to flakes of snow.
Stubborn, Stubborn
I am the golden leaves of fall
that cling in desperation
to what I know. I won’t let go
until the snow breaks my resolve
and snaps the branch I stick to.
Instructions on Not Giving Up
The trees refuse to give up green,
to give up rustle of rebellious leaves.
Autumn freeze cannot convince
the trees to drop their foliage
and shiver naked in the coming snow.
They won’t surrender to the loss and grief.
I won’t let go. I won’t let go.
The moths won’t give up making sweater holes.
I can’t replace old sweaters that I love,
although the winter chills me through and through.
I can’t give up the comfort of the known,
although comfort causes agony.
I can’t give up the love I had for you.
I can’t forget you walking out the door.
I won’t surrender to the loss and grief.
I won’t let go. I won’t let go.
Old winter will not end, it won’t give up.
It will not let the spring melt all the snow.
But even winter can’t withstand the sun.
And flower buds break through the frost to bloom.
My frozen heart defrosts and beats again
As I surrender to the loss and grief.
I must let go. I must let go.
For Autumn
Soon the lawnmower
will depart to safety
of the shed.
The hoses will wind
around their wheels
and hide until next year.
The fire bush will wave
goodbye to all
the summer flowers.
Our gardens will sleep
beneath the mulch
as warmth dissolves to cold.
We’ll put away our shorts
for jeans and insulated leggings.
Instead of sunsuits,
we’ll pile on our sweaters
and down jackets.
Falling leaves will tell us
autumn chill is a reminder
that snow will fall
and fires will roar
until spring taps on windows.
Nolcha Fox’s poems have been curated in print and online journals. A best-selling author, her poetry books are available on Amazon and Dancing Girl Press. Nominated for Best Of The Net and Pushcart Prize multiple times. Editor of Chewers by Masticadores and LatinosUSA.
Editor Chewers by Masticadores
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