Rumors of Winter

Hard festooned cumulus
Riding like boats across the azure sky
On a torrent of air sliding off the mountains
Washing running churning over the
Shaking corn fields like a flood
Bringing whispers of rumors that fall is near.

The sumac overhears and blushes.

Penelope and I linger
Apples and cheese, a last meal
Before we separate once again.
In cars like pebbles
Rolling across the bottom of the flow.