Appalachian Autumn

One day,
On the underbelly of a breeze
Comes a chill
The trees hiss,
And fall, the great copperhead,
Sweeps across the sky.

We trudged to school,
Actors unsure of our lines,
Bells rang every 48 minutes
Lockers flew open and slammed
We dashed through halls
Chasing the next
Fraction of knowledge,
In sophomore English class,
Mrs. Austin drew a triangle on the board
(Was it isosceles or equilateral?)
She said, “It's the shape of tragedy”
Someone muttered –
“This class is the tragedy”
And everyone laughed
Except Mrs. Austin.

At pep rallies
Cheerleaders launched themselves upward –
Girlish quotation marks –
And we in the stands became
A thousand exclamation points,
I wondered if
All this hysteria was good
But went to the games any way
To hear the band
And watch footballs
Streak through the air
Like shooting stars.

On a crisp afternoon,
My girlfriend and I watched
Chicken-wire-and-tissue floats
Glide down Main Street
Beauty queens waved to crowds
A queen for every crop –
Cotton, watermelon, rose,
The silence of their pantomime
Broken by a sudden explosion

Of brass and drums
Cymbals, reeds and flutes,
And a tinkling glockenspiel
While a lone majorette
Stared skyward
Looking for her lost baton.

At the fair grounds,
Pumpkins sat in ripe rows
Outside the exhibit hall

We ate cotton candy
Took belly-churning rides
And sneaked a look
In the tent of the bearded lady. 

And now, we lie in bed
The moon hangs
Like a bright sail
Above the mountains
Wind rattles windows,
Shakes apples
From trees in the orchard –
Releasing images.

A faint rain is falling
All across the Appalachians
Turning leaves gold and orange,
Red and brown,
We snuggle beneath the covers
Living in each other's arms –
Children in the cool paradise of autumn.