Partial Shade

There is a place of partial shade
Along a woody colonnade
Of maple, river birch, and oak,
Where sparrows dart and spybirds croak.

I sing to bees: Make use, make use!
These August blooms are so profuse,
And while the summer tarries on,
One must taste sweetness ere it's gone.

But down there by the sluggish creek,
A fuller shade spreads hourly,
The angle of the sun grows weak,
The skies turn gray and showery.

The darkness comes; it may not end
Despite the planet's age-old trend;
One day, the yin-yang spin may stall
And night will perma-freeze us all.

But lo! The crows awake at dawn
To caw and clack, so life goes on.
Full sun's too bright, full shade's too bleak;
I'm partial to the stippled streak.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

This comes across on the surface as a nature poem, but on a deeper level I think it is a praise of moderation. Some places may be too warm, others too cold. We will be happiest if we seek the "stippled streak."