Friday, September 16, 2016


Waiting for the Harvest Moon
to Rise Above the Treeline

Under the Harvest Moon

Under the harvest moon,
When the soft silver
Drips shimmering
Over the garden nights,
Death, the gray mocker,
Comes and whispers to you
As a beautiful friend
Who remembers.

Under the summer roses
When the flagrant crimson
Lurks in the dusk
Of the wild red leaves,
Love, with little hands,
Comes and touches you
With a thousand memories,
And asks you
Beautiful, unanswerable questions.

by Carl Sandburg, 1878 - 1967
beloved American writer, editor, poet
winner of three Pulitzer Prizes

Thanks Carl Sandburg for reminding us that
Summer and Autumn are both full of memories.
Summer whispers to us of Love, Autumn of Death.

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