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| picture taken in September when there was color |
III. NATURE.
XXVII.
INDIAN SUMMER.
These are the days
when birds come back,
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a backward look.
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a backward look.
These are the days
when skies put on
The old, old sophistries of June, --
A blue and gold mistake.
The old, old sophistries of June, --
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh, fraud that
cannot cheat the bee,
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief,
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief,
Till ranks of seeds
their witness bear,
And softly through the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf!
And softly through the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf!
Oh, sacrament of
summer days,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join,
Thy sacred emblems
to partake,
Thy consecrated bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!
Thy consecrated bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!
BTW- I kicked butt today... cleaned house (sans dusting... dusting sucks), bike ride, BodyPump, grocery shopping, laundry (including blankets and rugs)... Unfortunately, I need to spend tonight (Saturday night... pathetic) looking at a pile of student homework and paragraphs. Let's hope my life is more pathetic than their writing... just saying.

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