Poetry Sunday: End of Summer
We are at the changing of the seasons. Summer is ending; autumn arrives in three days' time. Ready or not, here it comes. And life moves on.
End of Summer
by Stanley Kunitz
An agitation of the air,
The "iron door of the north" hasn't poured any "cruel winds" or snows our way just yet, but of migrating birds we have plenty.
A perturbation of the light
Admonished me the unloved year
Would turn on its hinge that night.
I stood in the disenchanted field
Amid the stubble and the stones,
Amazed, while a small worm lisped to me
The song of my marrow-bones.
Blue poured into summer blue,
A hawk broke from his cloudless tower,
The roof of the silo blazed, and I knew
That part of my life was over.
Already the iron door of the north
Clangs open: birds, leaves, snows
Order their populations forth,
And a cruel wind blows.
And so summer passes and a new season begins. Welcome, autumn!