Wednesday Poem

What happens in the poem is from long time, not event time,
though it was an event too. —Nils Peterson
September Ritual, Mayrhofen
Mid September early snow, – so,
from the high pastures six cows,
horns streaming with flowers,
flow with a heavy grace down
a street lined with racks of discounted
summer clothes. Suddenly all shops
are ski shops.
Green Year walks
slowly down the mountain amidst her
attendants. She will leave them here
to follow the valley south. Praise her,
Bossy. Praise her Floribell, Praise her
you sweet ladies. May your winter barns
be full and the hands of your farmer warm.

by Nils Peterson