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Poem: The Last Day of July

Poem by Winona area author.

Image by cromaconceptovisual from Pixabay
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The last day of July
feels like a cautionary ending to me
even though
two more months of Summer
remain on the calendar.
"April" and "May" resonate
with Spring. "Spring" itself is bouncy,
and "April" seems to leap up with its A,
to then land with a firm "pril" on the green grass.
"May" suggests a permissiveness
that allows us to do
what might not be proper:
to run through the grass like children
or to fall head-over-heels in love.
But "August" is a stern adult
with graying hair and lowered eyebrows
that brings an end
to the joyfulness that began in Spring
and had only grown with the warmth of Summer.
And "September" is surely an ending
that removes the joyful greens of leaves and lawn
and replaces them with oranges and dry yellows
that shine in the waning sun with a final glow
before they fall to the ground
and shrivel into dust.
So I will celebrate this day
and then, tentatively,
enjoy what warmth we may receive
as the days fade slowly into Autumn
and then are slowly replaced
with the darkness of a Minnesota winter.
Balance is good. Yin and Yang will alternate
and complete each other, season after season.
And I will be part of that.
It is good to be alive.
Wayne Farmer is a retired software engineer who is now writing poetry and playing the djembe.

The Post Bulletin publishes poetry by local and area writers every Tuesday. Send poems to life@postbulletin.com with the subject line "Poetry submission."

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