Labor Day Morning

Labor Day morning

dawns

crisp and cold

as if to say,

"That’s it.

Summer is gone.

Winter is

fast approaching."

There is no time

to tarry or play.

Gardens must be put to bed.

Shelves and closets cleaned.

Old things mended or thrown away.

And yet,

I long for

A drive up the coast.

Antiquing on route one.

A hot drink in Camden.

Soup in Wiscassett.

The late summer light

playing on the water.

And you.

September 5, 2005