Summer signs off with a crystal clear day,
her glowing fields ready for harvest,
her trees easing into their first autumn hues.
Such miracles she wrought while we were wrapped
in her sunbright spell, dizzy with play and leisure,
mesmerized by afternoons that stretched on and on
and ended in star-strewn skies. Beneath our dreams
she whispered her song: Become, dear ones, become.
And tadpoles turned into frogs, and goslings grew
strong wings and learned to fly. From blossoms
came seeds and fruits and grains. Eggs became birds.
Caterpillars turned into butterflies. And the earth
was filled with abundance and the sky with song.
Now, gliding into the smooth night, summer
takes her leave, her song flowing behind her:
Well done, sweet ones; well done.