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The End of Summer
by
William Cullen, Jr.


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I walk in the field’s high grass and hear
the crickets whispering in their prayer.
I walk to the edge of a pond
scattering tadpoles into the silt
and sending a turtle into the deep.
It’s that hour of the day,
going on six,
when the slant of sun is bearable
and a cool breeze carries away
the last of the heat.
I have come for a last time
to stand here in silence,
to show the pond
I have learned something.
I am going back to the city
a quieter man.

This poem first appeared in Magnapoets (Issue #6,  2010).
Used here with the author’s permission.

 


Purchase a framed print of this poem.

William Cullen Jr. is a veteran and works at a social services non-profit in Brooklyn, New York. His poetry has appeared in such journals as Farming Magazine, Right Hand Pointing, Spillway and The Christian Science Monitor.

 



New comments are closed for now.
Lori Levy:
Like the way it leads up to the last line about "going back to the city/a quieter man."
Posted 09/20/2016 02:55 PM
ElizabethP:
Really wonderful images. The last line: perfect. Thanks!
Posted 09/20/2016 02:45 PM
Mary Lou Taylor:
The beauty of this poem touched me.
Posted 09/20/2016 02:07 PM
Jo:
A peacefulness in reading this poem. Thank you.
Posted 09/20/2016 12:29 PM
michaelanderson:
"back to the city/a quieter man."
Posted 09/20/2016 10:03 AM
Jean Colonomos:
Jean I love the quiet beauty of this poem.
Posted 09/20/2016 09:15 AM
blueskies:
A shining jewel! Thanks William.
Posted 09/20/2016 07:03 AM
Newf:
Leaves a feeling of contentment. Thank you.
Posted 09/20/2016 02:30 AM


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