Indian Summer

Hot as dust in the throat,
fall unravels on night in October.
Cataclysmic orange dries
to brown amnesia, every leaf
a shred of wanderings and whispers.
The yellow moon steeps autumn,
brews peppermint and pears.

–excerpt from “Indian Summer” in To Sip Darjeeling at Dawn by Donna Pucciani (Virtual Artists Collective, Chicago 2011). First published in Driftwood.

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