The summer days fade a bit earlier now,
Every day, inch by inch, minute by minute
As dusk gradually hastens its entrance.
Chief Blackawk and the old soldiers
off the square in Byron stand unfazed
as the twilight draws near and the dying
daylight bleeds into their eyes.
All the towns named for boys and states
along this litle river gradually fall asleep
while the farmer's nightspots bustle
and the diners enjoy the view.
Here it comes, this time of month,
when the entire giant orb can be seen,
a massive rock as it clars the horizon,
better lighting the evening sky and the river below.
the Rock is clearer to the motorists,
it can be grasped at from the roadside tables,
now the moon reflects itself on the gentle waterway,
and teh drivers follow the road in the moonlight.
As they chase its path,
the moon gives a bright glow
and the gentle river
provides a mirror.
We chase the moon
past Mr. Deere's, with its
farm shed nightlights
Until the roadway goes too high
and the river goes its own way.