Beneath the Harvest Moon

You gave me lungs
and songs to sing.  September’s  frost
has kissed the pumpkin;  night air
wears a hint of chill.

Soul to soul
we spent the currency of Spring,
Now maples wear their glory’s flame;
too soon the brilliant blaze is done.

I hear the gone sound
of a thousand silver wings;
fireflies, dragon flies,
jet planes,

I watch the sky
with just a tiny twinge,
who could mourn
such a splendid season?

4 thoughts on “Beneath the Harvest Moon

  1. beautiful seasonal poem, Sarah!
    I hear the gone sound
    of a thousand silver wings;
    fireflies, dragon flies,

    magical lines and image.
    Have a beautiful Fall.
    love and hugs, Francina

  2. Thanks, Diane,

    For sure it is my favorite time of year…This prelude to the holidays sets my soul to glowing. There is something in the air that is almost primal for me.

    I hope you get a good view of the lunar eclipse. It’s raining here. Hard to tell the difference. : )

    Sarah

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