THE HEAT OF AUTUMN - by Jane Hirshfield

THE  HEAT  OF  AUTUMN  by   Jane   Hirshfield The heat of autumn is different from the heat of summer.    One ripens apples, the other turns them to cider.    One is a dock you walk out on,    the other the spine of a thin swimming horse and the river each day a full measure colder.    A man with cancer leaves his wife for his lover. Before he goes she straightens his belts in the closet,    rearranges the socks and sweaters inside the dresser by color. That’s autumn heat: her hand placing silver buckles with silver,    gold buckles with gold, setting each    on the hook it belongs on in a closet soon to be empty,    and calling it pleasure.