In late August, cool morning air
surrenders to the returning sun.
An elderly Black man lounges
in his front yard facing an avenue.
He angles back in an old recliner,
tending stacks of straw sombreros,
fedoras and Stetsons...
tending stacks of straw sombreros,
fedoras and Stetsons...
his lawn a make-shift salesroom.
Though there are few buyers,
he is a confident entrepreneur.
He retires in the lingering warmth,
his employment assured.
Soon, the leaves will fall
and the rains return.
No demands are made of his time
and he accepts no complaints.
Soon, the leaves will fall
and the rains return.
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