Poets Corner

August Spring

The clouds of fair weather
Rose and fell, then separate
Winds were sent to send
Them down in mosaic
Over the August land.
A rift had formed
In weaker layers,
Out of sight
But not unnoticed.
Sun broke through in elastic fashion
To spray the waters of the
Adirondack bay
With fire.
All the pine and maple
From a hundred years
Drew near
To see.
And one by one
On bended knee
Were all transformed.
It was in the green
A passing thing;
No one stayed
That August Spring.

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