Pass

Shriek of blue jays

and a good ole American crow

woke me on Labor Day

dropping the flag on next season.

I could cry.

It’s just too fast,

the passing of plays. Just unfair,

half-time of my half-century

arriving as I still resist adjusting.

Not ready yet for cheerleaders,

courting by a chorus of crows.

Flash 55 in the Imaginary Garden!