At Summer’s End

Jaime Haney

Jaime Haney

At the summer’s end
as the trees begin to turn
the eye turns to the spectacle
of the explosion of colors
Summer’s song fades

It is the autumn wind
that is all we can hear now
the whistling in the high limbs
causes leaves first to dance
then fall to the ground

In the flowing streams
dark salmon head for home
turning brilliant in the passage
knowing it is the time to die
a generation to birthe

Gone are their appetites
the way of summer’s songs
starvation brings our their glory
A sheer will drives them on
to spawn themselves out

We glimpse them passing
golden shadows under water
as we glimpse the turning leaves
both pass us by and are gone
too quickly winter silence

“In summer, the song sings itself.” ~ William Carlos Williams


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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4 Responses to At Summer’s End

  1. but hope comes with the spring. Another beautiful poem.


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