early harvest
#poem #yearofprophecies

Loosening from light, long hazy days ebb golden,
corn fields and buzzing
early harvesters of wild lore.
Cold is still a legend, a remembered song
soon enough we’ll be singing,
huddled into aural lamps for communal warmth.
Tonight, as twilight melts into familiar
constellations, migrating like flying life,
early harvest still feeds celebration.