LAST DAY
by GWEN AUSTIN

Copyright 1997


Rise early, lots to do.
Turn off 'fridge,
prepare breakfast and coffee brew.
But first, behold the view
of hills above marshmallow fog.

Clean the house
bottom to top.
Such chores
never stop.
But first, appreciate the view
of 3-D hillocks
and bleached denim sky.

Strip the beds,
grab wet towels.
But first, savor reds,
oranges, and yellows--
New England's fall revue.

Off to the laundromat go
several miles hence.
The lawn to rake and mow,
and road water channels to clear.
But first, admire the view
of silver-ribbon-river
winking hide and seek.

Return with laundry, clean and dry
to store until next year.
Watch those geese on high.
Wash out refrigerator, stash gear.
But first, enjoy the view
of untidy rock wall--
 chittering chipmunks highway.

Box up leftovers.
Set out De-Con.
Collect garbage.
Hope mice will be gone.
But first, appreciate the view
of leather-leafed oak-chestnut grove--
playground of squirrels.

Drain all water tanks and pipes.
Add antifreeze.
"Where has the day gone?  Yipes."
But first, relish the view
of towering guardian white pines, 
lattices for venturous vines.

Pack suitcases,
load the car,
tie shoelaces.
But first, take pleasure in the view
of bright-colored leaves
sailing to earth's nest 
and life's rest.

As sunset is near,
cherish one last view
of burnished gold 
river, mounts and trees,
Put aside any fear.
We'll be back--
next year.