They’re already putting out purple mums
in the nurseries, like displaying
Christmas trees before Thanksgiving.
Like everyone else, they’ve given up
on summer.  No one goes to the pool
or puts a boat in the water,
air too heavy to breathe, spirits
sodden, weighed down by a season
past its prime.
This is a day depleted by summer
with autumn not quite here,
a forlorn, abandoned time of year,
the tail-end of summer, spirit-less,
it lingers.  We’re ready for back
to school.