With the first day of school under our belts, signaling the official end of summer break, I thought it appropriate to share this poem that I found over on Debbie Diller‘s blog. She posts a poem every Friday, and I love it.
I’m thankful that the season of summer carries into the beginning of the school year. It makes the transition easier because we don’t have to give up on all of those wonderful things we love about this time of year. The afternoon rain showers and even the fresh vegetables at the market are comforting as they stick around just a little bit longer.
photo by: nikki.jane
Three Songs at the End of Summer
By Jane Kenyon
A second crop of hay lies cut
and turned. Five gleaming crows
search and peck between the rows.
They make a low, companionable squawk,
and like midwives and undertakers
possess a weird authority.
Crickets leap from the stubble,
parting before me like the Red Sea.
The garden sprawls and spoils.
Across the lake the campers have learned
to water ski. They have, or they haven’t.
Sounds of the instructor’s megaphone
suffuse the hazy air. “Relax! Relax!”
Cloud shadows rush over drying hay,
fences, dusty lane, and railroad ravine.
The first yellowing fronds of goldenrod
brighten the margins of the woods.
Schoolbooks, carpools, pleated skirts;
water, silver-still, and a vee of geese.
*
The cicada’s dry monotony breaks
over me. The days are bright
and free, bright and free.
Then why did I cry today
for an hour, with my whole
body, the way babies cry?
*
A white, indifferent morning sky,
and a crow, hectoring from its nest
high in the hemlock, a nest as big
as a laundry basket …
In my childhood
I stood under a dripping oak,
while autumnal fog eddied around my feet,
waiting for the school bus
with a dread that took my breath away.
The damp dirt road gave off
this same complex organic scent.
I had the new books—words, numbers,
and operations with numbers I did not
comprehend—and crayons, unspoiled
by use, in a blue canvas satchel
with red leather straps.
Spruce, inadequate, and alien
I stood at the side of the road.
It was the only life I had.
This poem actually brought a tear to my eye. It reminded me of my childhood and Iowa but mostly of your childhood with a father and mother who adored you and did all the right things. Your Dad, busy with the planting of seed and the mowing of fresh hay, your Grandmother’s green beans in canning jars, the sunflowers and the garden and the cows~all such a beautiful way to grow up in the city that was so much country and so much love! The love of Jesus and all the amazing times with the kids you grew up with and learned all about what your parents would have you learn about the ways of God in this mean world we sometimes have to live through. I am so grateful for your and Meghan’s lives and all you mean to me. I love you, honey, so very much, and I’m so proud of you. You are a joy to my life.
You’re the best. Thank you so much for your encouraging comments. I just love you!
It is a blessing to be in this family and I am so thankful to have so many sweet memories of summer on the farm (and at the beach!).
I love his poem, Brittany. You actually may have experienced much of this as you sat on your parents’ back porch or rocked in the hammock in the yard. I am so happy that you have chosen to be a teacher and I know you are an inspiration to your students. You wll be the teacher that many of them remember when they reach adulthood. The teacher who made a difference in their lives. You have made a difference in my life, I know. You and your sister, both. I love you.
This poem definitely made me want to curl up in the hammock again. We’ve had a great start to our school year so far. I think it’s going to be challenge (as always), but definitely a good year. Thanks for your encouragement. I’m not sure what I would do without the inspiration and support from our family. You are such a wonderful aunt. I love you!