Mother Nature’s hymns of the seasons,
Of fathers, daughters, and obedient sons,
Each one the same as the year before,
Chanted in remembrance to summer’s lore.
 
Sons of harvest and daughters of autumn,
Take heed the sermon of the setting sun,
From the pulpit into the long and cool night,
Where the north wind blows with all its might.
 
The rites of summer have left and gone.
What comes next is another song.
A hymn of change from summer into fall,
A Summer Postlude to answer nature’s call.

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