The Last One

November 13, 2010
the seasons are fading again
nature is changing her dress
she is sick of the pale yellow mornings
the wildflower prints
she is drained and cold
and in need of something heavier
soon she will don a fiery gown
full of crunchy leaves
and crisp air
that holds the smell of pumpkins
from last year
letting the scents of fresh tomatoes
fade away
her perfume is of apples
and corn
and spiderwebs will form in the hammock
the mint leaves all will dry
and shrivel
and we will enjoy one last
summer night
with lettuce and tomatoes and beans from the garden
we will slip off our shoes
and run forever in the grass
an collapse
to watch for shooting stars
and hear the crickets
the bonfire crackling
and your arms around me
before the end

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