Closer to October
the gathering gloam
Closer to October
Potholes full of rings
of rain ex-
panding, vanishing
into each other.
Gone, lost in
these infinities,
I walk the seam where
summer with-
draws. Cold rain devoid
of even a trace
of August.
Rust on the maples
and on the Kousa
dogwoods: red
berries beaming through
the gathering gloam.
Oh, I love your concluding line—“red berries beaming through the gathering gloam.” Even in the bleakest conditions, there is always a vestige of unexpected hope if we look closely enough.
Beautiful piece!