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~ By Courtesy of Others ~





Summer's End

My heart dwells forever in harvest home,
This sacred season of summer's ending.
The rich, red, ripe apples, the green gold pears,
Comfort my cold bones and sing sweet solace
That hope will not hide from our folk forever.
We will stand safe and strong on our own Steads.
Renowned, remembered as our ancient kin,
Those hale hearty folk whose ways were as just
As a hard, lonely land would allow them.

2003 Laurel Mendes




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