Solstice Advent

By Jeanne Winstead

Strings

Of red peppers

Hang in the kitchen,

Shriveled reminders of summer's garden.

Drying cornstalks fill the air.

Brown grass, cracked earth,

August,

Rough and grousty

Like a sweaty beard

That needs shaving.

Shrilling crickets, swell of locusts,

Buzzing wings, and peeper's chorus,

Summer's music.

On starry nights

Lace curtains float out

From moonlit windows,

and

Breezes glide across our faces.

while we dream.

Fall looms,

School bus engine,

Pace picks up,

Good-bye to freedom.

No grass to mow,

No garden to pick,

No flowers to water,

Or hummingbirds to feed.

No wine to sip on front porch evenings.

The world is bleached, and cold, and still.

Roll up your windows!

Turn on the music!

Bring out the lights!

Retreat to the indoors!

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