She is leaving, heading south,

Old man winter sliding north,

Snows not far away slowly coming forth,

Looking forward to that first snowflake in my mouth…

The trees are still quite green,

Not yet are they shedding from their summer sheen,

The grass is as well still flourishing,

The squirrels still find the tree nuts nourishing…

The beach may, to some uninformed, look dead,

But to me this time of year does feed my head,

Still warm enough for an ocean edge walk,

Always open is she to with me have a talk… 

I’ve looked forward all summer,

To speaking with Mom Ocean on a variety of subjects,

But with all the people around it is certainly a bummer,

Nothing can of Mom make her seem perplexed,

She knows everything & carries with her,

A wisdom from the ages, I can talk with her of subjects most complex…

© ed 9/20/11