Commands for the end of Summer
Rachel Wesztseon, 1967-2009, American
i.
Deepen,
leaves, not with what
has made us sorry but
with what was profound about that
sorrow.
Seed distribution mechanism of a native clematis enclosed in a bag for research. Mt. Cuba, DE
ii.
Make me
spontaneous,
gathering winds, but don’t
blow so giddily I teeter
too much.
Pollinator structure for certain varieties of lone bees, surrounded by black-eyed susans. Early Autumn at Winterthur, DE
iii.
Songs I
listened to all
summer long, accept my
thanks: to regress is not to move
backward.
The fruit and leaves of a Japanese dogwood (Cornus kousa) in Autumn. Winterthur, DE
iv.
Splash of
patchouli on
my wrist, remind me that
in this cauldron there is a world
elsewhere.
Flower of a Magnolia grandiflora in Autumn. Baltimore, MD
v.
Smile! Those
days of humid
agony have earned you
the right to a hundred purple
sunsets.
A Japanese yew in early Autumn sunshine. Winterthur, DE
vi.
Come, fall,
I can feel you
stirring, I can hardly
wait for the things that will happen
come fall.
Autumn moult of a fox. Gibraltar, DE