I'm all for the wheel turning,
Here it is, cross-quarter time,
Smell of bread baking,
Corn Goddess all honored and adored,
And my most loved time of Summer's End
just ahead...
But wait,
It went so...
One moment there were blackberries swelling full
And skinny tires on pavement back and forth
Baby girl and me weaving our bikes down narrow lanes,
A lake full of swimmers and memories of campground evenings,
We are a family that loves our traditions...
Summer, you slipped past and we were busy,
dig your heels in and let us catch you, ripe like a berry
Full of honey, riverswell and raindance,
A song of long afternoons of a barefoot child,
Don't call us home until the first star calls all her friends
And night deepens past the cricket song.
Deep bins full of summer, wide shelves lined three jars thick,
Yellow corn, tomato chutney, hot peppers, blackberries, apple jelly,
Wood stack, crickets hiding by the braided rug and a ribbon from the county fair,
drink the green from every stem, sucking summer dry as dog days,
Summer, dig your heels in
Slow us to a simmer,
There's clouds to follow,
There's dreams to drink.
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