Conversation, Sitting on a Porch Swing, Drinking Coffee, Waiting

the ticksnap detach of the elm leaves,
they speak loudest.
a detachment of geese
gibbering to each other, “OutOutOut”.
nuthatches finding
the sunflower seeds in the feeder.
(We would’ve thought the greedy goldfinches
would’ve been first, but no.)
chickens rustling through
the fallen leaves
for…we know not what
nor do they till they find it.
the faint thrum of the interstate
getting stronger as the trees
take their leaves.
high, fast cirrus above
and clover and orchard grass
rising below.
time to grovel for
sweet taters and peanuts
to roast and toast
under Orion
and all the Milky Way.
the sugar bush–a whisper of
‘maybe this year we will rise’.
time for the house plants to get
their night cover
and for the rain lily to come inside
and rest.
And the last rose of summer,
our folk diva, sings.
we are waiting
but the gingko hasn’t budged a single inch off green
toward caution yellow.
we look at each other
our eyes asking–
we are waiting?
what?
we are awaiting.