That Gold Thing

You’ve got that gold thing going on again –
come earlier today –
yesterday you brayed Louisiana rain –
full of storm and sway –

but now you brave a big broad wink of later
summer: hot as hell
but full of angled light – as if a freighter
had come in to swell

the harbor with the first grace of a harvest –
harbinger of fall –
to summon up a hunger for the largest
part of anything at all:

the bounty in the evening we will reap
before we wrestle
with its lack – before we take another leap
onto the trestle

of the bridge of yet another year –
with luck to struggle up into the clear.
But you’ve come earlier today, my dear.
The shadowed angle’s almost here.

.