Member Poem

 
I lost summer somewhere
in the wildflowers, woke
to trees blushing at my disregard,
wind hurrying the clouds along.
I should have seen the signs.
I watched geese abandon their twigged
April nests, pin-feathered goslings
ripple ponds listless with July. Now they rise
gray against the gray sky, skeining south
before first snows.

I’ll stay here, I tell them.
I’ll air outcedared cardigans, chop carrots
for the soup tonight, cross
the threshold of the equinox,
try not to stumble.

                         First published in Poetry Breakfast