At the edges of this cool morning,
humming with the dying of summer,
I, long awake, attend to things
that must be done:
dogs fed; trash pulled to the curb;
a load of laundry started;
hummingbird feeders cleaned;
all ordinary, mundane things—
This chill in the air has me wish
I’d put on a jacket, yet the chill
will be gone by noon.
And I find I smile.
For the first time,
I do not despair at the dying
of this year’s summer,
but find a joyous warmth
in the light as this year’s autumn
is born.
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