A change of season

On Thursday
I surrendered
to the south wind
which had caused the mercury
to rush past seventy
to a few minutes of nirvana at ninety.

Ninety degrees means a quick morphine free unassisted death.

Upstaged for weeks by the headlines of flooding
a quiet surrender was in order,
a white flag letting go
an above all do no harm
get outta Dodge
lemme outta here
pull the plug
euthanasic
escape.

The pre-sunset cold front
with a northwest wind at forty
brought me my out.

A stage right quick change of costume.
A shedding of icy dry skin.
A metamorphosis on the ghats of Stony Bar.

The baton rose.
From the other headphone
the music swelled
to a howl.

Reborn
I started to roll
back from whence I came,
roll instead of expand
foam instead of crack,
roll back across
to Hallaway Hill
to punish her
with the flotsam of fall and winter
laughing like a kid
as I
yet again
crashed ashore.