Morning
arrives with a bright
blue glow of dawn leaning between
those last yellow leaves
now lingering over our green lawn.
Already autumn seems to be
creating its own competing colors,
divided plots of light arrayed
side by side remain like painted fields
arranged in a triptych on a large
canvas or like the abstract patterns
of oblong blurs stacked, one
on another, in Mark Rothko's artwork.
Hour after hour, the still
narrowing shadows of these trees
will shape the landscape,
shifting each brilliant plane of daylight
from place to place the way
gray reflections of cloud fronts stain
a sea's surface when drifting
across waves on an open ocean.
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