Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Just a Note

Dear Son,

The good news is
all fall leaves
are on the ground,
whirling, swirling
changing partners
dancing triumphant
rusty, musty, testy
spreading all around
in a quickening pace.

Tantalizing, though,
my approach may be,
please, don’t take my scrawl
as an ancient’s bad memory
fortified by a full moon
because there’s no mistake
as with certainty I recall
your promise to rake

and I have to convey a safe bet
that bad news has hit, and
last autumn is now
a flash from the past,
and soon will be here
- for certain, I must say -
the month of May.

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Prompt: good news or bad news, maybe in letter form