Monday, August 23, 2010

The Crow Knows

~ The Demise of Summer ~

In the quiet of the morning
I hear the sound
The one for me that tells
The season is about to turn.

In the open hayed field beyond
The crow sits perched and yawns
And caws and caws to say
Summer is going.

I wait each year for this sound
To tell me another summer is bound
To fade away with its heat and fierce beauty
It bows out as Autumn sweeps in, colors flowing after her.

Cawing, Cawing, the crow announces
The fields are ripe for picking
Left overs are there for the taking
Summer is leaving and fall is coming
Most welcomed by me.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Images courtesy of the Internet; Round Table art by Marion Rose


Eva Gallant said...

Love the poem!

Micael Chadwick ("Rabbit") said...

Most welcomed here, as well. This Texas summer is killin' me this year!

Cinner said...

Hey Holly, lovely poem, we went out this am, came back to wind blowing yellow leaves down to the ground, definately a fall day here. how are you doing, think of you often, hugs.

TechnoBabe said...

Autumn is such a gorgeous time. We had two huge black birds in our yard a few times last week and I asked my hubby if they were crows and he thought maybe ravens. Their size made the mourning doves and other birds look tiny. Your poem is a pleasure to read. And it stirs anticipation of the cooler months to come.

Robin said...

I just posted a small book for you under my comments with some ideas. As for the weather...whew it's HOT!

Sara said...

Oh Holly! Now I understand why you posted what you did on my blog. lol I am looking forward to Fall... I always do. Our Summer up here has been lacking so I am trying to enjoy these last days of it. But I will sing with joy when the first autumn leaves fall.

spottedwolf said...

Hondo...the character created by Louis L'Amour...spoke of his dead Apache wife in the novel. Her name was Apache word which in one breath describes the elusive space in consciousness where the mind through its 6th sense recognizes daybreak.....not in its actual dawning....but in the subtle frequencies which tell the senses the eastern sky is....about.....on the verge.....of tell-tale lighting. Its like we speak and I...the recognition of a new state of grace.

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