Dispersal

Summer was immense (says Rilke) 

and I’ve had my fill of it too, ready 

for the down-driving force of Fall 

to send creatures into burrows, 

leaves to the ground, and seeds 

deeper (Shelley says) each

like a corpse within its grave

but then the milkweed pods crack open 

and things are airborne again, 

the doubtful sky filled with 

silk-floss umbrellas, and it’s like that kid 

in the 6th-grade band who was never 

in sync with the beat, blowing

for all he was worth just after 

the music had died down, 

but there was a kind of glory in it, 

the heedless blare, 

how the bell of his horn tilted 

so conspicuously, contrarianly skyward. 

ANN LAUINGER’s three books are Persuasions of Fall (U. of Utah), which won the Agha Shahid Ali Prize for Poetry, Against Butterflies (Little Red Tree), and Dime Saint, Nickel Devil (Broadstone Books). Read more.

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Persimmons on the Ground