Member-only story
Summer Must Have Turned a Corner
Sunday sonnet
On any path I walk down at our place
I have to slow to turn once in a while.
The hollyhocks are calling outer space.
Red-orange tinged daylily brings a smile.
A cool wind blows through trees. It doesn’t stop.
A massive hurricane churns off the coast.
Pours fresh air right at us from off the top.
Late summer sun’s still shining bright, I boast.
Look on across the way, a fallow field.
Grass tassels show as purple loosestrife blooms
with sun-lit rays the goldenrod revealed.
This pleasant breeze that blows as Autumn looms.
A red-winged blackbird flys across blue sky.
Another corner turned is my reply.

