Indian Summer

I hike the ridge on the last warm, tousled day,
speckled as a partridge egg,
sun already stilting 
shadows in early afternoon.
The leaves 
are October butterflies, crimson, gold.
I want to stop earth’s tilt-a-whirl right here,
hold this moment that feels so much like love
before the winter’s swordsmith hones his blade.

– Sarah Russell
First published in Poppy Road Review
Photo by Greg A. Hartford
For Poets United Mid-week motif:  Autumn

45 thoughts on “Indian Summer

  1. I think you must have been with me this last week! Except, I miss the leaves which resemble butterflies. I have golden coins up here in Alaska and the butterflies are in Oregon.


    1. Thanks so much, Jammy. Your comment didn’t get eaten. It’s just that the first time someone posts a comment, WordPress sends it to me for approval. That helps keep out the trolls. That hasn’t happened yet, but in today’s environment, you never know…


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