The Inevitability of Runny Nose
David Thompson
The leaves reveal their true colors
At last, burnished bronze and gold
Glowing with radiance
A ceiling of tapestries.
The caresses of a summer breeze
Increase in intensity but bring a chill
And sundown creeps closer to high noon.
Laughter splits the darkening sky
As youngsters use the last vestige of daylight
To kindle their dwindling outdoor fun.
Boots crunch through leaves
Fingers reach toward rosy noses
And with one loud, defiant SNIFF
A child marks the arrival of fall.