Summer strips
Fading slowly into Fall's fantastic wardrobe
Of chill kissed edges
Burgundy so rich you can drink of it deeply
Flaming orange who's heat you can still feel
Corn stalks as high as my daddy's shoulder
Who's height I crooked neck at to gain eye contact as a child
They sway gentle in late August breezes
I dance to the melody of their ripe harvest call
Apples hang heavy on juice laden branches
September slides down my chin like July watermelon
Both leave a 6-year-old's grin
And the knowing that soon all will be sleeping
Naked at midnight in January
Frost forming on lit windows
I wish I too could hibernate