A Poem for Autumn

Containing the Light

The floor of the lake
drawn in toward source
reveals flowers, succulent,
yellow, and scales of algae
scallop its edges. Aspens grow
golden along the bank.
Piles of well seeded scat,
and deep in mud, bear tracks
seem to rise up from earth
beside heart shaped
prints of deer.

Mornings, wasps wake
in late sun and rise
to hang like gliders,
slender legs dangling.
Some cling
to window screens,
cross with hairy feet
planes of glass. Pinched
waists and tear-shaped
bottoms dip and crawl.

Each day, one less minute
of light. Shaved off both ends
like the candle in the saying.
Life. Radiant with use.
Burning and turning.

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