Pink Copper Sky

The early morning mist has a steady hiss
On the statuesque bronze trees
And the chiseled leaves fall slowly, deliberately
In the pink copper sky

The hydrangea leaves smeared in a dried burgundy
The petals, a blush wine
Not a sticky candy apple Corvette red
Simply parked and overgrown over the old slippery stone step
With a sickly moss green gourd marked with off-white barnacles
tossed in a churning tide

The old porch rocker
A hundred years in the telling
The weathered mint patina gives back and forth
Gliding hickory compliments to the salmon clapboards

A friendly race
Of pumpkin sitting
On the vintage walnut
Potting table well-preserved
Storytelling; transitioning pink geraniums
Wintered in the attic potted in white high button shoes
The heirloom as timeless as it is abiding to two feet of
History lesson the maple leaves carpeting the trail in
Coppery golden browns falling in collusion with the
Allis-Chalmers orange tractor in slumber

In-flight are the seeds of the wilting flowers
Transient as the window box of mauve mums
They greet the dormant thatched chocolate acorns
To reminisce before a sparkling frost
Or a glint of a golden dipped aspen leaf
copper sky

The early dusk
has a steady honk
Vee-formation geese
Deliberately fall across
The twilight pink copper sky

Copyright Morgan Merriweather and Sage Sweetwater