The earth sped by

with curled crackling leaves

dying beneath my feet

And grasshoppers sidestepping

to the beat of a bunny hop.

I stopped amidst the 

scolding of squirrels

and twittering of birds

To fling my clothes

on a limb. Wild nothings

drew me down to them

Tickling my toes 

on a sun drenched knoll.

Butterflies passing by

lifted skyward my eyes;

Sprinkled gold dust

on my nose.

O Here i long to grow

among the goldenrod

and wild saplings 

Bleeding out my roots

on autumn soil

lying like an ivory statue

and remembering only

The last day of September. 

(c) 1983 Carol R.