Autumn Omen
by Shirley Brewer
Who knows why the leaves of my house plant
are turning yellow and red
in concert with trees outside my window?
Such miracles never happen to me.
In the 50’s my best friend, Rita Knipper,
found a five-dollar bill seconds before I saw it.
When I spelled syzygy at the New York State Bee,
the crowd rose to its feet until
I put two d’s in mediocre.
I’m overdue for luck, blue jewels in my Cracker Jacks,
a tryst with Brad Pitt, hot views of Paris
from an airy balloon.
My glowing schefflera signals change,
wills me to tear open the sun—a piñata
spilling gifts of light.
Shirley J. Brewer is a poet, educator, and workshop facilitator. Her poetry has appeared in The Cortland Review, Comstock Review, Passager, New Verse News, Innisfree Poetry Journal, and other publications. Her poetry chapbook, A Little Breast Music, was published in 2008 by Passager Books. A second book of poems, After Words, was published in 2013 by Apprentice House/Loyola University. http://www.apoeticlicense.com