Seasons

This is a first draft, written in one setting without edits. I may edit later but I prefer to let my feelings about it settle first.

It is summer now, and the months are filled
with swollen drops of rain, beating
off the iron earth.
And if not rain then sullen heat, sticky
on our bodies. Hazy.
I am full, but empty - I am, I am,
I wish.
It will be autumn soon, the leaves
are floating down about my head
and some of them are yellow.
I wonder what giant hand
reaches out to pluck them, and if
they still feel tethered as they spiral.