28

This high summer we love will pour it's light
the fields grown rich and ragged in one strong moment
then before we're ready will crash into autumn
with a violence we can't accept
a bounty we can't forgive
Night frost will strike when the noons are warm
the pumpkins wildly glowing      the green tomatoes
straining huge on the vines
queen anne and blackeyed susan will straggle rusty
as the milkweed stakes her claim
she who will stand at last       dark sticks barely rising
up through the snow       her testament of continuation
We'll dream of a longer summer
but this is the one we have:
I lay my sunburnt hand
on your table:     this is the time we have.


-Adrienne Rich
Your Native Land, Your life
(a poem sent in a birthday card from my BFF. so lovely)