Indian summer – poem

Indian summer – poem – Web Chapbook Issue:

John E. Smelcer

There are things measured in life by death.

The village girl’s slow dying taught me this–

how false summer renders dim-witted

perceptions of nature’s unpredicted ways

as morning rises

like a thin dark blue pencil stroke

blending into seamless sky.

After a time dawn slightly thins,

while the measuring earth gathers

its victory of snow which soon will howl

through the bared bones of hollow forests.

I watch as the slow dance of summer is harvested,

knowing I’ve darker woods to walk than these.

COPYRIGHT 1998 Fairleigh Dickinson University

COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group