Summer’s Fruit

The summer leaves, the summer’s tree
and scent of summer’s fruit
Penetrate the hearts of men;
both great and destitute
And as the skillful summer winds
pound and pulsate through the plain
The farmer and the earthly plow
await the welcomed rain

Autumn chills then autumn kills
and falls where whispers lie
In mourning for the withered root
and boundless-burdened sky
It’s anger, or it’s apathy,
both harder to ignore;
Witness change, from ragged peaks
that slope to gentile shores

The winter wood and winter-rot,
as “Frost” bites at my toe
This keen art of persuasion
laying dormant in the snow
And pushing drives me through this void
into a lofty view
I drift as softly as the snow
in search of something new

Springs surprise then stabilize
the wet and ruddied earth
If only for a minute, moment,
second, breath or birth
The joys we share oblivious
to those outside our gate
I eat the fruits of summer
and resign myself to fate