in these windblown weathers,
heather-hearted and human and strange,
to turn every blackberry corner
of yesterday's summer.
The robin, singing her love-me-forever,
kiss-catch-clutch-in the heather
blues, sings tide flow
and autumn's turning and white
winds folding.
Cattle along all hedges wind winter
into their frosty
breathing, their slow eyes dreaming
barn, bullock, and fodder
under all hedges.
But sea cave and sycamore tell us the world
is wider than weather.
Blackberries darken the corners
I turn, and gold seas turning
darken, darken.
My liveliest self, my other, Godspeed
on our farings,
The bronze path at evening. Toward summer,
then, My hand, your hand -
as if first meeting.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by John Unterecker, 1977
