Habits

Every time I ride with him I must be mindful to swallow my comments.

Habits

A son of Singapore, you mastered

your motor skills on short freeways

unmarred by big rigs or black ice.

On endless trips I ride with a man who

earned a driver's license on an island

in perpetual summer, navigating

                          stop-and-go traffic only.

In town the rebel in you lets loose,

racing past posted limits. But on four-lane

                                               roadways

you drive slower than a slug strolling

            the Yellow Brick Road

certain that the Wicked Witch of the West

       will swoop down with a ticket.

I fret at the possibility of being late

because you prefer urban routes to highways

but, mostly, my lips are sealed.

I have become an inadvertent back-seat-driver.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Autumnal Equinox

The equinox seen in autumn took place approximately ten days ago. This poem written almost six years ago could have been penned today. It describes our situation in Minnesota almost perfectly.

Autumnal Equinox

Later sunrises and earlier sunsets

march toward one another like troops

in pincer formation

battling the muggy days that lay siege

to a usually brisk September.

Juxtaposed against public pools

padlocked and settled for hibernation,

skateboarders in shorts fly by.

Youth relishing a reprieve from jackets,

unconcerned with why. The familiar chill

of fall, lacking.

To the north

cool Canadian air hesitates to cross

the border, perturbed by political posturing.

And for the foreseeable future

                                       more night than day.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor