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  • September 21,2014 - matching world events with the turn of the earth.

    Today there are 400,000 citizens marching outside the United Nations flying the flag of the sun,
    while in Maine bumblebees feast on mountain mint, purple asters, and goldenrod.
    Hard necked garlic hangs pungent in the mudroom.
    Rituals of harvest play out in streams, fields, and in the streets.

    The fish are coming down, the anadromous ones,
    driven by cold Canadian air,
    schooling back and forth,
    stirring courage before pouring out of lakes and ponds,
    making a run to the salted sea where they will feed and nurse wounds garnered in spawning.


    Balls of late hydrangea pinken in graveyards large and small
    bringing a temporary beauty and fruitful bounty to the stones of the dead,
    outshining the bronze grave markers of fallen soldiers.


    It is the moment of filling the larder attended by a round of gunfire from hunters
    just now warming to the season of the kill.

    It will soon be a time of voting with whatever granule of hope remains.

    Ironically a silence comes precipitously over the land and inside of us,
    even as children chant and shout for the future in the faraway streets of NYC.

    Songbirds depart for warmer climes and
    doors and windows shut against the evening chill.

    Summer is near done in New England
    giving us a momentary eerie sense of calm.
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