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...
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