Autumn Dunes Indian summer succumbs to cool morning mist. Sun burnt chaparral flaunts scarlet, maroon. Pearly everlasting outlasts green foliage, displays autumnal gold. Red berries appear among drying ruins. Sticky monkey overshadows silvery sage. I approach September’s familiar portal, traverse a threshold of seven decades on earth. Ahead, gray fog delivers delicate drizzle, melds with low clouds, sullen ocean. Moving slowly, with care for aching bones, I contemplate coming finale, dawning unknown.
Jennifer Lagier lives a block from the stage where Jimi Hendrix torched his guitar during the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival. She serves two rescue dogs, dabbles in photography, taught with California Poets in the Schools, edits the Monterey Review, helps coordinate Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Website: jlagier.net
Amethyst Review 