End of summer

End of summer

When the goldenrod blooms
and our swollen tears fall,

footballs fly though cool air.
Do not fumble or fall.

When Edith Piaf warbles
and autumn leaves fall,

old aching legs give out
as we stumble and fall.

With crisp air and frost,
burning leaves signal it's fall,

and then pumpkins are carved,
their wide grins mouthing "fall".

At the end of summer
comes the harvest of fall.

Before the sleep of winter
we're glad that it's fall.


© Kåre Enga (16.September.2024)

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