Haibun
Drunk on Summer
Drinking the last drops
Aug 28, 2024
The waning days of summer pretend to be the main course, not the leftovers. They pile my plate with second and third blooms of orange lilies, pink hollyhocks, purple and white columbine, and the purple dragons of lamium. “Feast, feast!” the birds tweet as they swoop and dive, a deliberate distraction from the burning bush leaves turning to fire, the maple leaves oozing into red, and the random cottonwood branches sporting yellow leaves.
The bees are drunk on pollen.
Butterflies pull them over,
make a citizen’s arrest.
