A Rant

Some years when fall colors are spectacular, and streets lined with deep red maples display their grandeur, I despair. For I know the transience of nature's artistry.



A Rant


And another thing:
some years you are too
extravagant
with your glamour,
drowning the maples
in crimson,
using bottles
of coloring
instead of dollops
until they turn scarlet
as the lips
on streetwalkers,
brazenly lining
boulevards
until one morning
they stumble,
tawdry
in the dawn,
make-up faded,
limbs exposed,
leaves in a heap
at their feet,
and you unconcerned
as a madam,
knowing old man winter
(that icy-fisted
not-so-choosey regular)
waits around the corner.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor