Harvest

A suble chill begins to creep

Through Summer's tyrant grip

Autumn's color gaining ground

Against his sweaty grip

Bending backs and dripping brows

Enduring heat's unyielding test

Can breathe once more the hopeful air

Of long awaited rest

Dreams once buried in the fight

To simply just survive

Stir slowly in the gentling dawn

Begging soft to come alive

For if Summer is a desert

October is the rain

That washes clean the weary pilgrim

And leads them to the harvest plain

The fruits of wearied labor

The wheat of callused care

Beckons ever onward

With a glorious feast to share

Those bending backs and aching hands

Are now allowed to slow

And rejoice in one another's work

In the sunset's golden glow

I watch them come alive again

In Autumn's liberation

They call for me to join them

In the firelight celebration

A cooling breeze plays with my hair

I'm a little less alone

And the sweet sigh of October

Whispers I am welcome home