"Late Summer Morning"

One of my poems turns Sweet Sixteen today.

Late Summer Morning

(September 1, 1990)

Pale
blue sky
flecked with fleece;
beneath, green green grass
sparkles under the slanting sunlight
and, through sneakers' guard, chills toes;
while frail and strong, fourteen inches across,
spun, strung, stretched, between the swing and its support,
a spider's web swing-sways, billowing great on the breeze
that carries, faint, unmistakable, undeniable, faint, the odor of decay.
Around, unknown unseen insects whirr and trill, mono-tonously, unceasingly,
(not, as in high summer, only during darktime),
punctuated by grating outbursts from the locusts.
Tall snapdragons fall, heavy with blooms;
purple grapes drop from vines;
wild sunflowers gather behind:
rejuvenating morning beginning
bright splendid
day.

E. L. Core

See also "On a Bumblebee", "Summer Day's Course" and "The Eve of June".

Confer.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Fri. 09/01/06 07:27:22 AM
Categorized as Literary.