Indian Summer

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Indian Summer is

such a grand time.

These are the days when

vacationers come back,

a very few lucky

ones start out anew.

Even a bird or

two lingers on,

to take a backward

look at what

they've done with Summer.

I wonder how

many folks stop

to remember the grand

vows we made

in the Spring.

Of all the industrious

things we planned to do,

and all the place

we planned to go.

But when the heat

of Summer came,

we yawned, stretched

and just relaxed,

to wait until

the heat ended,

dreaming of the many

things we'd do in the

glorious Indian Summer.

But now that it's here,

we have new fears,

wondering what we are

going to do this Winter.

Indian Summer is

filled with blissful days,

even the skies put

on their old robes,

and dance to

the old refrain,

trying to make believe

it's June again.

All the glorious

scents of Summer,

with the warm, soft rains,

but it's all a fraud

that does not cheat

the birds and bees,

they know the warm

season is almost done.

Indian Summer's plausibility

induces human's frail belief

that Summer still lingers on.

But, the bursting seed pods,

their silent witness bear,

that the chilling frost of

Autumn will soon be here.

Even the restless breezes

do disturb the

first timid leaves,

that dance shyly earthward,

and will soon be

rampant over the land,

giving definite proof that

Winter is close at hand.

This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.