Sunday Evening, Mid September

 

 

 

 

These last days of summer are restful

The vines all plucked and pruned

The humid heat abating

The children packed away at school

The afternoons clear and quiet.

 

The light remains

And I can walk in the early morning

Without hat or coat.

The reeling drone of the cicadas has faded

And the late sunshine gilds the treetops, still lush

And holding against the soon coming

Wind and darkness

That will carry life away for another season.

 

Copyright 2016

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