along the outer edges: bearing down,
shearing leaves from boughs, thin wrapper
of azaleas crumpled like an after-party
underfoot; summer’s glove peeled
from the bony hand— It plucks
without hesitation red fruit from green,
berries purpling at the rim toward dark;
and above, brisk wind and stippled clouds, wrought-
iron weather vanes swiveling south and farther south.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

