Harvest
       

The night sky opens its starry picture book: an archer,
a bear, a winged horse. And a thousand miles east, in North Platte,
I know you see them too. The house is empty, only the coffee rings
from yesterday's breakfast, lingering on the kitchen table.
It helps to remember we live in a lush garden,
no reason to act like wrens, arguing over sunflower seeds,
when the yard is full of thimbleberries, the wind gently
blowing millet to who knows where,
while the summer squash, already waiting by the sink,
glows golden and green, more than we will ever need.

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Copyright © 2016 Thomas Mitchell All rights reserved
from The Way Summer Ends
Lost Horse Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission