the harvest poetry
. . The Harvest Poetry by Christina The setting sun dips, blushing, Caresses the brown earth Fresh with its harvested corn stubble The creek flashed a golden shushed smile, As the yellow-star's rays invitingly played, Before falling deeper onto the harvest horizon. Dried stalks stripped of their bounty Sway in the chill of evening breeze, The wind follows the sun away, As the corn husk sing and sway... Ah sasha...Ah sasaha... sassaaa Ancient native ghost's chant. In harvest we prepare for the quiet inbetween, The plunge into darkness, Before the moon, Before the stirring of dark spirits rise, Warm overturned soil sighs, Fog fills the abyss of the disappearing sun, Silent wisps of swirling curls rise, Leaving the smell of musky autumn As death and decomposition approach In our rush to harvest all All the sun, and wind, and soil, and toil Has rendered to feed us, To keep us bound and strong, Though inbetween the setting sun and the rising harvest moon We rub...
