September Orchard
By Terra Wolfe
The sweetly sticky apple smell
whispers summer's end.
Birds hear and desert the hill.
One or two leaves are already red.
Grass is dry and shaggy.
Air, still soft, hints of tomorrow's frost.
Men and rabbits seek their shelter
mend their homes, harvest extra stores.
A stranger would not know this day from summer.
Yet creatures of the land
sense the urgency of preparation
for a long and dusky cold.
Copyright Terra Wolfe 2006
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