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  • James Eichenlaub

Summers Gone and Yet To come


Image courtesy of Bård Amundsen (2014) (sciencenorway.no)

A stoic friend without a name Watched over me in younger days In a field where stood he near my home A silent sentinel who stood alone His armor was a gnarled bark His arms held high above my head Quelling rain and summer heat As alone played I on earth beneath


His reach was wide and twice as high As if in prayer for rain and sun Protecting all who gathered round Within that field where he was born Sheltered beneath that canopy So thick with emerald greenery His vigil kept through silent nights Was watched as I switched off my lights


The summer wanes and varying hues Of gold, and red and autumn brown Reflect the sun and paint the field As emerald shade begins to yield Fading with the season's change Shiver in biting autumn winds Such a mournful clattering sound Soon join the others on the ground


Letting lose their grip, they fall The field takes on a golden glow Leaving bare his mighty arms That brace to gather falling snow Into the catching breeze they run And as they whisk around my feet In rustling voices softly speak Of summers gone - and yet to come

James Eichenlaub (2021)

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