The Harvest Fire

The Harvest Fire

Festive faces impatiently desire,
To watch the dying sun bleed on each cloud,
And place on its empty throne their bonfire,
Before darkness covers them with its shroud.

The long, well-defined shadows of the sun
Give way to the fire's darker blur and swirl.
Now the harvest full moon's rule has begun,
Fire and moonlight mix; shadows dance and twirl.

"Hail the harvest!" Hear the Celts' eerie cries.
Silhouetted by blood-red, rising moon,
They dance as the yellow flame upward flies,
Moving and singing to an ancient tune.

Bonfire and full moon rule while people cheer,
The harvest and their survival this year.

-William