The Corner of the Year

HERE, at a pin’s point, Summer ends;
The independent birds turn friends
All at once, they hush and eye
The long road of the open sky.

The high and hazy gentle trees
Discover a cruel growing breeze
In their branches, the trees quiver,
The skimming swallows have left the river.

Nothing is changed, yet everything
Is poised and taut, the crickets sing
Still in the grasses on and on;
But Summer t he beautiful is gone.

Blue to the north is a sky so clear
It means the corner of the year
Has been turned, from now on all
Leaves and men face to the Fall.

Frost is but slender weeks away,
Tonight the sunset glow will stay,
Swing to the north and burn up higher
And northern lights wall earth with fire.

Nothing is lost yet, nothing broken,
And yet the cold blue word is spoken:
Say good-bye now to the sun,
The days of love and leaves are done.