I remember late summer
The hot afternoons and cool evenings
When night came earlier and dew sparkled
On the cool grass beneath the post lights
I remember the misting rain so fine
That it seemed to hang suspended in the morning air
The trees still green, the weeds so tall now
Vines everywhere out of control
The mother deer still with their fawns
Out at dusk on the clearing
And then disappearing, like scared fish
Into the shadows of the forest.
The smell of the grass and backyard grills
And, ever and always, the scream of the locomotive
As it nears the tunnel
The sound of the baseball announcer in the night
From some radio just inside an open window
Telling of some scene miles away in a great city
Where the field is bathed in light
And grown men hit and catch and throw
In games that mean nothing this late in the season.
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