Barn Swallows

Carl Brenders, "Migration Fever"

Barn Swallows

Here are all of the days in August
marked off in sharp strokes
on the power wire out to the barn.
Each year at this time they line up
for roll call, parents and young,
leaving their mud cups empty
under the eaves, on beams and rafters,
on the lintels of doors. In dark blue
iridescent ink they write
their thank-you note: Where once
we were few we now are many!
And the next day they're gone,
wiped from the sky by a rag of cloud
just as the first leaf falls.

Ted Kooser

It's that time of year again. I like Autumn, but I don't want Summer to end. Change, departure, goodbyes? Please, not just yet.