j u l i a
r o b i t a i l l e  

summer's end

 

morning dew turned to

thunder’s eve

& mourning skies

gave way to greyer seas

before whispers

that soothed us

stoned our yellowing leaves,

    — whimpered branches in the yellowing breeze

in blooming brown, blue, gold, and green;

summer cried

   (herself to sleep)

 

dark roots took hold

the ground got old

 

autumn died

 

and then came the cold.