Incongruity is worn like
A kimono
Splashing, swimming in the heat
A back drop of goldenrod
In its prime
And the smell of crab apples
Fallen under the trees

School in session
As summer slowly
Loses its grip.
That is how time rolls.
Today is eighty-five degrees.
By Friday we’ll be in the mid-sixties
During the day
And mid forties
During the night
The pool will soon close.

I watch the shadows advance
In their inevitable march up the hill.
One last day.
Like the pool, summer will
Soon be closed.
A new season will open:

Welcome to Autumn.