Harvest

BY: Woodrow Odom Lucas

It’s seven o’clock,

The sun has gone down,

Fall has begun to unleash its breathtaking barrage of color and sound,

Crickets, leaves, yellow, tan, red, purple, green,

Children harkening to the music of the ice cream man!!

“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Ice Cream”,

Couples walking in the twilight, holding hands with smiles on their faces,

Young boys playing flag football, older boys running for touchdowns,

Babies suckling to their mother’s breast,

Hardened criminals repenting of ills and getting out on parole,

It’s seven o’clock,

The sun has gone down,

Fall has begun to unleash its breathtaking barrage of color and sound,

Young well to do’s bumpin’ Young MC in their beetle convertibles,

Ethiopian immigrants harnessing the last weeks of warmth to take a dip in the public pool,

Hispanic couples dancing salsa until the midnight hour,

And somewhere deep in the rural south,

An African American farmer looks out over his crops with pride and expectancy and says,”Yessireee I do believe we’ve got us a Harvest this year.  I do believe we’ve got some Harvest, yes we do!!!”

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