Christina M. Ward

a free verse poem of the season

Delay of Autumn

The Autumn wreath
with plastic apples
aged pine cones
resides in closeted bin

Temperatures dip
days shorten
signaling yellows,
deep reds, bursts of orange
the ushering in of
pumpkin — everything
not this year

the corn has been cut
husk-less stalks, sparse, dried
scatter the field in muted gold

this year the heat hangs long
the soils ache with thirst
the hickory tree drops her limbs
large, green ones
too brittle, they splinter
and fall away —
like bones breaking
that sound

poison ivy yellows, withers, dries
the greens fading to brown,
no vibrancy of Autumn,
summer lingers, decays

I’ll hang the wreath
another day.
When Autumn comes
will it be as a swift breath —

with Winter on her heels
raging in white?

Christina Ward 🌼 is a poet and nature writer from North Carolina, where this year it is in the upper 80s and low 90s at the end of September. We haven’t had rain for weeks.

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This poem was originally published by Weeds & Wildflowers publication of Medium.