Saturday, September 26, 2015

A Poem by Michael Lee Johnson

Sundown, Fall

Fall, everything is turning yellow and golden.
No wind, Indian summer, bright day,
wind charms with Indian enchantment,
last brides marry before first snowfall,
grass growth slows down, retreats,
haven of the winter grows legs, strong,
learns baby steps, pushes itself
up slowly against my patio door, freezes,
and says, "soon, soon, Spring I'll be there."
Winter is sweeping up what is left of fall,
making room for shorter day's longer nights.
I hear the echoes of the change of seasons,
till next sundown sunflowers grow.

Michael Lee Johnson lived ten years in Canada during the Vietnam era.  Now know as the Illinois poet, from  Itasca, IL.  Today he is a poet, freelance writer, and photographer who experiments with poetography (blending poetry with photography), and small business owner in Itasca, Illinois, who has been published in more than 875 small press magazines in 27 countries.  He edits 9 poetry sites.  Michael is the author of The Lost Americans:  From Exile to Freedom, several chapbooks of poetry, including, From Which Place the Morning Rises, Challenge of Night and Day, and Chicago Poems.  He also has over 73 poetry videos on YouTube.

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