Garrett Reagan
Tell me again of the season
When gallivants would whistle and walk, weary eyed and bushy browed
When blackberry brambles spoke in cursive, tracing hillsides in pillowy clouds
Where the river’s edge curled at our feet, sending soft snores to the willow bark
Tell me again of the season
When salmon dined in thrones, forks and knives of karated gold
Fins slapping on river rocks of velvet and velour
The bears cubs would wake, honey nosed, and syrup stained, never needing more
And now,
Climbers on the mountain watch the red sun set, fleeing oceans spinning fiery rage
Blades of grass, fell from glory, poking out of the earth in strained shades of crisp gold and brown.
Morning dew no longer sits upon the lilac bush, replaced with a summers supply of ash
Hummingbirds going thirsty no nectar left to stash
And now,
Salmon scales, velvet flaking off, velour flushed down the stream, fought so hard to get up
Bear cubs waking, knees shaking, running from the red sun.
A once mighty forest, now flooded with black tipped pines and sticky sweet sap, boiling, bubbly and burnt.
So please, as forest cubs run home- towards the red sun, tell me again.
Tell me again of the season.