September Song

I think often of the hills of home and long to be there,
Where the twilight is just the setting of a scene
For the eternal song of the hills,
Sung by the bats - high and unheard by folks,
Tree frogs join in their high chorus
Along with cicadas, crickets
And dozens of little ol' singin' things.
The hooty owl gives chase to the tune with a     baritone "whoooo".
The bass is sung by the thunder rollin' through the hills an' hollers of home.
The listener is just plain mountain folks...
Folks who knew to stay and listen.
I yearn to hear that nightly concert,
Sung the same, night after night like a siren,
Callin' to those who have the hills in their blood.
Callin' like a lover to me.
Callin' my name as if it has known me forever...
For it has, it truly has.

copyright Stephen Hollen   9/18/2005

Misty morning

The first day of September
Brings a promise of fall
A promise of crisp mornings.

It is a glimpse of quilt
snuggling

Of woolen shirts,
flannel and sweater
Weather.

The first day of September whispers
Promises of orange, yellow and red leaves
Decorating the trees, glorious maples, stately oaks, sassy burning bush.


Fall is lurking,
Hiding in the mornings
Crawling around like a night beast
Seeking to devour summer.

You can see it in the mist
That gathers round the houses
Lingers longer each day
As sunrise sleeps in just a little longer.

Fall is glorious, a cool and calculating lover.

First Frost

There is a chill in the air tonight.
Chickens started roostin' pretty early too.
Twilight and the fog is already started down
Covering the underbrush, slidin' round the trees.

There is a brittle feel to the air.
Like it is hidin' icy fingers,
Waiting to reach out and wrap frosty hands
Round cabin, barn and farmyard.

There is a bone cold feel this evenin'.
Feller needs a coat to go check the barn,
Needs a sweater round the house.
Get that stove a going good, now.

There is a frost just a settlin' in.
Just wait and you'll see, brother.
Grass will be icy blades under foot,
Cracklin' like cellophane as you walk.

There, there it is in the window corner.
See it yonder, there, first frost,
Sneakin' into the cabin near bedtime.
Thinkin' a feller won't see the signs.

There is first frost tonight.
Cover your roses and them mums, now.
Crackly, crinkly frost on the window.
Extra quilts on the bed tonight.

Just a Taste of Fall

I reckon the weather will be changin' fast now.
The tomaters have done all they're gonna do.
There's plenty of green ones to fry still.
Doubt any will ripen, weathers turned a bit.

Up in the hillside there's a buck workin' his antlers.
Just a rubbin' that velvet off hard an' fast.
He's gettin' ready for courtin' days right soon.
Listen, hear him thrashin' agin the tree?

Tobaccer's in, hangin' up there,high in the barn.
Stand in the barn door an smell real deep.
Nothin' sweeter smellin' than a cash crop dryin'.
Soon enough folk's be a strippin' 'baccer again.

Dang squirrels are a cuttin' on hickory nuts.
Sittin' on the tin roof, cuttin' an' a cuttin'.
They's gettin' fat, ready soon for a long nap.
'Course, one or two of 'em might be comin' for dinner.

Field corn stalks are turnin' brown, whispery dry.
Tractor's sittin' ready for work tomorrow.
Couple o' days an' the corn cribs will be full.
Them deer will be gettin' their fill 'bout now.

Yessir, weather's changin.
Just a taste o' fall in the twilight.
Light'nin' bugs havin' one last dance.
Mist creepin' down like a quiet quilt.