Montana Time
In the coolness of the morning
It's Montana time.
And even though winter
Is on the horizon,
Let us pretend that
Today – this late summer day –
Will last forever.
The leaves still are green,
With just a touch of golden coming on.
We make music
Because we must.
We capture the summer in a song –
A rapture almost spent.
Meanwhile the birds
Are dusting their feathers.
They know that soon
They will fly away.
And as always the earth tilts
To its appointed season.
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