Optimistic Harvest

In the middle of September,
among red-rimmed maple leaves
and feisty, fat gray squirrels,
with shelves full of canned summer
and preserved sweetness,
it’s so easy to overlook
the stinging nettle, gnats, and gnawing rabbits,
July’s cracked, parched soil
and thundering, flooding slurries.
Next year will bring more of the same:
snow-melt-fed streams of optimism
swirling through sweaty, blistered reality.
And we’ll love it all again.

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Poetry, photos, musing

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