Fall has been glorious to date.
Full of lovely color and warm days.
Breezy enough to invigorate,
With sun highlighting forest byways.
Now that I am in mid-Fall—it seems corny—
But I might like it better than Summer.
Summer was too hot, too bright, too stormy.
Full of buggy, muggy days without number.
But oh, yes, there were good times, too.
Days by the pool, lazing out in the heat,
Then slipping into the water just to cool.
Laughter, picnics, and flowers by my feet.
Yes, Summer could make you a believer,
But now that I am in mid-Fall, I think
I enjoy the mellow more than the fever—
And on the vine, I still see roses growing.
Some say Spring is best with days warming—
Greening, blooming bursts in urban sprawl.
But Spring is needy, showy, always wanting.
I see that clearly now that I am in mid-Fall.
Now that I am in mid-Fall with dry, brown leaves
Crunch, crunch, crunching beneath my feet,
Like worn out, torn open, decaying, past years,
And I laugh at the roses blooming as a treat.
I wonder if I might not like Winter even better?
When I’ve swept the leaves away and all is clear,
Fire at the hearth, chores done, no longer a quester—
Now that I am in mid-Fall, and Winter draws near.
It might not be too bad, I think, sipping cocoa,
Blanketed in Love, settled in a rocking chair.
Maybe roses bloom in Winter sometimes, too?
Now that I am in mid-Fall—falling toward Winter.
By Contributing Author, Michelle Garren Flye