Visitor

Autumn announced herself last night,
Not to stay, yet,
Just a preliminary visit,
A kind of readiness inspection.

Her winds blew in from the north
Clearing the sky of its foggy warmth,
Bringing the scent of sharpened pencils,
And scattering the poems on the porch.

It’s August and Autumn is just a visitor,
A balancing obligation
For Indian Summer visits to fall.

There is still time
For a few more sails
And fresh tomato picnics.

Denial will do until Labor Day.