Cannon clouds erupt across the milkweed field, low seed-pod smoke trails catch in dry stalks – grass-fallen soldiers sacrificed on summer’s front lines.
Butterfly transcends the highway vortex, wings clap toward the sun, changing lanes to glide south.
Flowsy hedges’ flowers blown and grasses tattered, edges tumbled, summer scattered. Autumn is a hefty girl, hair all come down with dancing.
Trees undress outside-in shedding summer-fat throw-away leaves.