Sumac flames
against a leaden sky
one last burning ember
of the summer past.
The leaves are turning
drought curled carpet
too late the refreshment
of the pelting rain.
The taste of fog
replaces smokey yesterday
when the last campers
forgot to quench their fires.
The days get shorter
each afternoon becomes evening
before I toss my headset
and prepare the evening meal.
Sumac flames
against a leaden sky
One last ember quenched
soon ‘neath the blanket white.
ml’25