In the fullness of summer,
greens of every shade predominate.
Leaves, shrubs, ground cover, ivy, moss.
Wild white morning glories hug a miniature maple.
Stretch throughout the ground around.
What bliss to amble through verdant lanes,
listen to finches sing, cicadas hum,
witness handiwork of spiders,
watch a cottontail disappear beneath a bush.
Learning is kinder in this natural realm than in a classroom.
Quieter.
No questions other than the ones within my mind.
Which greenery will be back to dazzle next year?
Which flowers, birds, insects?
Which will die?
Will you?
Will I?
Which return to soil?
Contribute to new life?
It’s strange that in the fullness of summer,
thoughts lean toward death.
Why not?
Death provides nourishment for living things.
A kind of homage to birth, growth.
A gift to Mother Earth.
Lynn Benjamin
July 11, 2021
