Season for Change

Summer is a sedate garden party
Sophisticated pastels brighten our way.
Fragrant petals from carnations
Gladiolas gladdening rain-spattered days

But Autumn's colors are as wild
as a dragon on Chinese New Year.
As vibrant as a flame thrower's torch
or a Zoroastrian prayer.

October's trees are tipsy.
Their branches tell drunken jokes.
Merry merlot maples
cavort with claret-soaked oaks.

Autumn is alive and amber.
It is not jaundiced or yellowing with age.
It is one last urgent appeal:
"Call yer mother! "Go write that wretched first  page!"

Autumn is an aunty at an Indian wedding
Daringly pairing yellow with  red.
Resplendent and unapologetic
Like a kindergartener's art project.

Marigold leaves are falling
Not timidly but stealthily
Saffron shaded love letters tumble
With veins entirely knobbly.

Scarlet is Fall's signature hue
A blood-curdling lipstick red
Crafty crimson sidles up next to green and yellow
Until their chlorophylled shades they forget

Poor beach-combing Cali-kids
Their dreams are all deciduous.
Never seen a NEVERgreen
Never been to an orchard of Golden Delicious.

Autumn is as ephemeral
as an ambitious H1 immigrant
Squeezing every last drop of opportunity out of life
Before moving back home again.

Fall is the grand finale
at a small town fireworks display
A final fling before the long frightening freeze
and frosty chills will take breaths away

Rakes will turn into shovels
and winter will lay the world bare
with its chilly wisdom and its quiet,
its introspection and despair.

Golden harvests, hay and fruitful yields
must now all be forgotten.
Though Spring will bring hope, will redeem,
in this ever-revolving garden.