WELL DONE! Poetry DEGREES OF FALL by Marisa Keller

WELL DONE! Poetry DEGREES OF FALL by Marisa Keller

A paragraph in heaven, with goldenrod aflame. Will it be Monet or Van Gogh this evening? The sun its own brilliant artist, no need for attribution.

This morning it’s 50 degrees. I fumble in the dark for a sweater. It just covers the bottom of my shorts, except when I lean forward to rustle the leaves. My sandals still handy outside my white closet door.

It’s still black as night, and the moon glows brightly. Just beyond the barn, a shimmer at the horizon signals the day’s installation. The skin of everything wet with dew. I reach for rubber boots.

Hours later, it’s 85. The smell of heat feels heavy and damp. Like vacation. The birds fly confused. Some in flocks darting in circles here and there. Are we coming or going, they seem to say. I hear the tropics in their bird song.

Now intense heat coats me with ardor. A bead of sweat drips between my shoulder blades catching at the small of my back. I swipe at it as if a bug has crawled down my shirt and find the moisture of this hot, hot day.

Horses are fuzzy with growing winter coats. They stand sweating lightly, their hooves beating the ground to curse the flies born of this humid interlude.

Dogs lift their paws gingerly in the dark of night. The grass is wet again. They look at me pathetically. The prospect of a bedtime potty is dim. The temperature dips. Let’s just go to bed.

Everything is beautiful. Still holding on to summer’s warmth. Painted in hues of lime, corn, pumpkin and apple. Accented by purple coneflowers, chicory and nests of Queen Anne’s lace as they fold inward. The thistles have gone to seed. The milkweed pod has burst and flown.

The last tomatoes hang loosely like our memories of summer. We hold on for one more millisecond only to find, it’s time to change our clothes. Again.

Marisa Keller lives on a small farm in Wisconsin with her family of four-and-two legged companions. She channeled her writing from an early age into a career in marketing and is now pursuing a deep desire to share and publish her poetry and prose. Her work revolves around nature, animals, love, the aging of friends and families and mostly, the connection it takes for all of those things to truly reveal themselves. Marisa writes because she loves to connect with words. Seeing others connect her words to their own story is gratifying and helps bring people together, even if it is just for those few moments. She is humbled by those cherished moments. She often shares her work on her Substack page, Between the Passions and The Prose.