The breezes taste
Of apple peel.
The air is full
Of smells to feel-
Ripe fruit, old footballs,
Burning brush,
New books, erasers,
Chalk, and such.
The bee, his hive,
Well-honeyed hum,
And Mother cuts
Chrysanthemums.
Like plates washed clean
With suds, the days
Are polished with
A morning haze.
- John Updike
Doesn't that just epitomize this time of year???? LOVE IT!!
2 comments:
Surely John Updike would have wanted as many as possible to read and enjoy this little poem. It certainly affected me. And, I wonder, do they still have chalk boards in schools or have they been replaced by dry-erase markers on wipe-able boards?
Yes! I love it too and glad you stole it and shared it with us!
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