A Pause

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A Pause

By Taylor Hagood

The first day that portends autumn's approach--
bug-wheeze fades into windblown leaf-rustle;
backlit clouds stand sharp, with photonegative-edge
solidity, against equally sharp azure. Road-sides are full
of queen anne's lace; nearly extinct butterflies
drift with scraps of paper in the breeze. Tomorrow, summer
will step back into place in this slow dance,
and its partner--fall--will disappear behind its
broad shoulders. But today, I remember
how not to steal, to lie, to murder, to chance
my breath's stolid fragility. I remember that I
need to grasp the season's wrinkled thumb.
I remember that leaf-shadows will die
away into purple threads, chilled and dumb.