a web of tiny purple suns strung
among the leaves,
and we picked until our arms ached
from reaching overhead
for so long, but I kept reaching
because this day will never be
in front of me again,
and in January I want to remember
the sun on my shoulders,the sound of the creek singing nearby,
& my sticky palms as I
tip my head up
to the blue end-of-summer sky
and let in the day.
3 comments:
We don't have chokecherries here in Nevada. At least I don't think so but, I'm jealous!
ellie ellie i LOVE your poetry.
your painted word-images are nourishing me as i too, dance steps between late summer and early fall. i don't want to miss any of summer's moments and am refusing to accept that fall is already sending leaves sailing down and ripening fruit on my apple trees. enjoy these last precious days, xoxo
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