Misgiving

Autumn gives a chill before it starts
to claw the gifts of Summer back
so today I saw the yarrow
brown and withering
and the thistle gone to silk and seed

I'm not sure
if this was the effect of the heat
or a portent of Winter coming
yet the clover thrives
always the first to come back
after the grass is cut
and the chicory mimes

its own success
having escaped the mower
and the heat

but into the tangle of green
I saw a shadow pass
was it perhaps a garter snake
or a field mouse
quietly feeling their way
either way
they would prefer that I had not seen them
even their ghosts
wraiths of a longer night

and so Fall
exacts her toll
with hands
as cold as ice
only doing her job
so the flowers and the trees
can rest in expectation
of longer days
and shorter nights
and the promise of better light

for some reason the groundhogs
stood in attention
in the mound in front of their dugout
facing away from the street

looking at each other's backs
over the rise
waiting for dusk
and the cover of night
to hide their sins
that misgiving might yield
to sinning once again.