Evening Poetry, August 16

From This Day: Collected & New Sabbath Poems



by Wendell Berry

The flocking blackbirds fly across

the river, appearing above the trees

on one side, disappearing beyond

the trees on the other side. The flock

undulates in passage beneath the opening

of white sky that seems no wider

than the river. It is mid August.

The year is changing. The summer’s young

are grown and strong in flight. Soon now

it will be fall. The frost will come.

To one who has watched here many years,

all of this is familiar. And yet

none of it has ever happened

before as it is happening now.

You can find this poem in This Day: Collected & New Sabbath Poems.

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