Migratory birds will take flight for distant sanctuaries.
Ditches have become overstuffed vases of Goldenrod and Queen Anne’s lace.
Blackberries swell with juice and ripen to a purple black.
Leaves contemplate revealing their souls.
Jaws of certain finned creatures protrude and bend.
Eyes become filled with the reality of what lies ahead.
The time has come for journey.
Seeds will be left.
Late summer is a torrent of hope.
By El Pescador
Photo by Bill Klyn