October in the Ozarks

When fall stokes the range

of color, a gentle light

inflames. Lofty stands

of defiance blaze against

nature’s dormant march across

Ozark’s stony face as

shimmering gold spills

across the rise and fall

of her weighty chest.

A swish and swirl of olive skirts,

with russet, ruffled petticoats,

sway to the tinkling streams

and her beating heart.

Mildew

scents the blanket of decay

on her quivering shoulders

until sleep arrives.

When at last fall falls,

winter’s icy fingers steal the scene.

— Terri Lynn Cummings