in these parts,
fall comes in the department stores
and coffeeshops
long before it comes
in the stars and the moon,
and even then
it’s sometimes weeks still
before it comes
in the air
or in the trees.
sometimes it seems
the leaves come down
not with grace but under duress,
still green,
torn off by rain and wind–
and by the time the real world
starts to feel
anything like the idea of fall
they’re selling in the stores
and adding to our coffee,
the seasons have moved on.
poem (c) 2016 D. Ohlandt
please only reprint in entirety and with credit given
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