Poetry Sunday

There are only a few days left in the month of August ... time is rushing on toward the unofficial end of summer on Labor Day and the official start of autumn with the autumnal equinox on September 22nd. This poem by David Budbill does a good job of how we view the change of seasons.

Toward the End of August

by David Budbill

Toward the end of August I begin to dream about fall, how
this place will empty of people, the air will get cold and
leaves begin to turn. Everything will quiet down, everything
will become a skeleton of its summer self. Toward
the end of August I get nostalgic for what's to come, for
that quiet time, time alone, peace and stillness, calm, all
those things the summer doesn't have. The woodshed is
already full, the kindling's in, the last of the garden soon
will be harvested, and then there will be nothing left to do
but watch fall play itself out, the earth freeze, winter come.


And, of course, as we all know ...

Which is known, as the Dothraki say.

Have a good day and enjoy the rest of your weekend. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo