As summer ends and fall begins, the harvest changes. Life follows nature.
The aroma of freshly baked zucchini bread
Weaves through the air like embroidery thread,
Blending with fragrances of stewed tomatoes,
Of home grown onions, squash, and potatoes,
Newly dug from cultivated hills of soil.
The tapestry of summer harvest, woven with toil,
And sweat, and watchful eye, and prayer,
Is displayed for us with pride and care.
My summer tapestry is nearly done.
Toward autumn's beauty I must run,
Where deep, rich colors hide decay,
And frost on the crops I can't delay.
As fall gives way to winter's chill,
Memories of summer will linger still