And the Seasons Burn

Sage, bows out in final rage As prairie shows its age And the seasons burn... Gone, is the summer upon A dark gray sky that's wan As tumbleweeds churn. Corn, stalks the dead frosty morn, Cold as the day we're born When all we did was cry. So, the far-flung geese do know When it's high time to go And all things must die. Soon, comes the dark mother moon Amid the scream of loon Across vast prairie. How, we heed the call of cow, No one knows even now-- But it just must be. Trees, so softly do appease And turn that final breeze To what yet must come. Chills, then starkly cringe the hills As that cold first frost kills And summer's struck dumb. Gone, is the summer upon A dark gray sky that's wan As tumbleweeds churn. Sage, bows out in final rage As prairie shows its age And the seasons burn...