Kurt R.A. Giambastiani

sumac, feathered fronds waving, hear it first
autumn’s gentle rapping on the garden gate
put on parti-colored togs to greet the arrival

nearby maples eavesdrop on the reunion
catch half the meaning but all the sense of joy
don festive gloves on five-fingered leaves

sweetgum and dogwood wake with a start
having overslept in summer’s waning sun
leaves blushing with groggy embarrassment

wisteria, in denial, refuses to join the fun
and with tendril fingers in viny ears
will sing la-la-la until their guest departs

evergreen elders tower over the festivities
enjoying the youthful exuberance at their feet
preparing for storms they know will come