poem of the day September 23

The last

few

hours

of

summer

Long hot

sun

on the

red

glow

of maple

Joe-Pye-weed

and

golden rod

wind

swaying

in the

same

meadow

Green

grass

like

thick

carpet

from

where

to watch

a

lazy

afternoon

that

can not

keep

back

the

ball

of

fall