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.
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