Your hue has softened —
The color of organic egg yolks,
Dipping below the tree line,
Hushing evening earlier each day.
You chirp for your next mate, saying,
“Hey girl, come find your summer love!”
But your abundant song, for me, is a melancholy
Reminder: this season grows short.
You linger in night’s arms,
Tinting the air cool –
Leaving the grass dewy –
Knowing you’ll sleep-in again tomorrow.
You are bursting!
It’s true – your fruits of this season’s labor,
Ripening, bowing branches and vines –
The reason for the season.
Oh, the fun we’ve had!
Everything is better under your glow –
Everything transforms within your passion –
We have grown and bloomed, for you.