indian summer - sara teasdale - ghizela rowe lyrics
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lyric night of the lingering indian summer
shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing
never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects
ceaseless, insistent
the grasshopper’s h*rn, and far off, high in the maples
the wheel of a locust slowly grinding the silence
under a moon waning and warn and broken
tired with summer
let me remember you, voices of little insects
weeds in the moonlight, fields that are tangled with asters
let mе remember you, soon thе winter will be on us
snow*hushed and heartless
over my soul murmur your mute benediction
while i gaze, oh fields that rest after harvest
as those who part look long in the eyes they lean to
lest they forget them
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