A Fall Conflict

Last night, upon stepping onto the porch
to take ‘the boys’ for their nightly stroll,
a cold wind informed me of change in the air.
The trees shook and rattled their dry leaves,
as two seasons battled for the night.

Summer, with its hot days and warm nights,
has lingered in Louisiana past its time.
But now, winter is demanding its due
by bullying and angrily announcing
its intention to have its rightful way.

The chill breeze sends fallen leaves
skittering across the concrete street
like crabs across a sandy beach.
Clouds, the front’s advance guard,
race across the nighttime sky,
promising a dreary, gray new day.

The temperature plummets,
as summer, now weak and spent,
reluctantly yields the battleground
before the strength of newborn winter,
so boldly flexing its young muscles.

As summer slinks away, beaten
and driven by winter’s frosty breath,
it pauses as if to say, “Enjoy your reign,
Winter, for I shall return to do battle
in the month of March, renewed,
avenging, riding upon tornadoes
that shall drive you away, and recapture
this land. Here winter has a short stay…”

Harry Edward Gilleland      11.15.04