Native Summer
By Elise Miller

       I feel fall
       pondering forth
       waiting for summer
       to laugh her last sunflower
       cry her last storm of tears
       crisp in the morning
       I awake in splendor
       chai tea whistling for me
       gazing at the wooly sheep
       in the field
       they are at peace, chewing
       They have become part
       of this landscape, with their own immigrant story
       Oh how the wolves must howl at night
       from the crowns of their red rocky kings and queens
       looking down upon them under the golden moon
       This space between
       leaves wandering room
       from prairie to yucca cactus
       to snow covered peaks
       In a matter of minutes, miles,
       ancient forces sowed the seeds of time
       to create such abundant diversity
       Colorful cycles, look! listen!
       every whisper
       carried upon the wind that fall sends
       as she blows summer back to sleep

Editor’s note: Elise Miller is the preschool director at Rock Ledge Ranch. She said she wrote this poem for a natural history writing course “in the spirit of Rock Ledge Ranch and Garden of the Gods.”