end of summer poem

end of summer poem

the first sweatshirt day

not turn of maple,
slow hued deep science that alerts the sudden change of season and attitude of north and equatorial girth to batten soon,
it is hurricane and dancing flakes
we fear

wind as condition, chin high drifting
blankets so piled the doors unopen

basements float, living boats
enjoy the end of parties while just as alive
resting in the lagoon, on level heard about,
smacked down by the anchor of downward
moving weather

    : dear under ocean and/or bay:
    : we know about each other but have not met
    : till now. I calmly rest upon your bottom
    : my keel and rudder.
    : you are too kind to host my slight
    : mishap and reason for inventing this
    : cause to adore you while hiding inside
    : a poem about the end of summer.

the end of summer is the opposite
of the way a toaster works.

love does not die at summers end
like it does on the moon with
impolite atmosphere
and waterless seas in question
but outrageous gardening sport,
my prize winning carrot
my lovers enormous squash

does anyone consider
the fall of each season?
each vibrant display?
each followed punishment?

not so naughty
as ample spring
when the regret
scabs completely

fruit flowers
do sex with themselves
and others
attended by stinging messengers with wind behind

encouraged by lambs,
baby bunnies,
test tubes
with Pyrex® logo intact

a marathon of procreation
as opposed to
The End Of Summer