Mother Nature's Last Fling

Ah, sweet Autumn at last, and a chance to share one of my favorite poems, first published in Third Wednesday Literary Journal. May the season bring you infinite color and comfort.

November’s flush of claret-rosy cheeks

is Mother Nature’s final lusty fling

before she lets her roots go dry and white

for three bleak months of solitary sleep.

Adorned in cranberry, persimmon, beet,

she flaunts her ripened femininity

and kisses with blood orange-tinted lips

the thinning shrubs and trees of Autumn’s rest.

She hangs her flaming paper party lamps

so maple embers glow at evening’s end

when banked in cozy mounds of ashen grey

to melt the fog of day’s reluctant dawn.

And pilgrims flock to her like cardinals,

impatient for the berries that she brings

to nourish them through winter’s abstinence

with incandescent memories in hand.