In late August
summer wears its old clothes.
The trees are flush with leaves,
thrift store rough around the edges,
beginning to show their age.
among the grasshoppers
who poke through the drooping cone flowers,
and in the cool early mornings
the night's dew sparkles
off spider webs covering the grass.†
In its last days August waits,
like a child impatient
for the opening of school,
for Its trees' fancy new clothes.
Shimmering in their showy
red, yellow and orange hues.†
© by Robert Manchester.
Used with the authorís permission.