Season's End

"Hanging the Laundry Out to Dry" by Berthe Morisot
1875
National Gallery of Art. 
This image is in the public domain because its copyright has expired. 
Courtesy of Wikipedia

Season's End

By Marianna Bartholomew

It's sweater weather 
says the voice on the radio 

and stepping outside

is like walking off a cliff into fall.

The air snaps

like freshly-hung laundry.

You see a cardinal, a female.

I pinch shriveled blooms from the rosebush 

and scatter petals like confetti.

The grass is still green

but looks uncombed.

The garden crunches underfoot

like stale toast.

I pull my jacket tighter

over skin still peeling from our day at the dunes.

Was it just last week?

The waves were like hedges

rolling and green.

We vaulted over them for hours

then rode them to shore.

There were clouds then, too

but harmless puffs
like lamb's wool.

The clouds today are flannel.




Thought I'd share this poem I wrote as a newly-wed, in my 20's...Just for the love of words!