Indian Summer

I.

Steady streams of summer breeze shake the fir

white outs the front where I used to live, remember?

we pruned our garden bed

Lilacs, lilies, hibiscus, gold and violet mums

but it is the singular wild violet all get excited about

as soon as it pops its purple head in spring

tiny pine cones, umber needles beneath our feet

and, we bought that omni telescope cobalt blue

so we could all three stare up in adoration of the golden moon,

starry sky, eucalyptus rises, wafting its fresh scent

in this rare air rustling leaves tremble me awake

my bones know Autumn is near

II.

Near is Autumn, know my bones

Awake me, tremble leaves, rustling air rare this in

scent fresh is it the perpetual a that wafts the rise of eucalyptus

or is it the sporadic x that marks the spot that whites out the fronted out fir

shakes steady the off streams of summer breeze

Can spring be so far ahead of this old ache,

blue streams, light

bends towards the goodnight harvest moon

Michelle Dorris, ©2017