Spun silk of mercy, <br />long-limbed afternoon, <br />sun urging purple blossoms from baked stems. <br />What better blessing than to move without hurry <br />under trees? <br />Lugging a bucket to the rose that became a twining <br />house by now, roof and walls of vine— <br />you could live inside this rose. <br />Pouring a slow stream around the <br />ancient pineapple crowned with spiky fruit, <br />I thought we would feel old <br />by the year 2000. <br />Walt Disney thought cars would fly. <br /> <br />What a drama to keep thinking the last summer <br />the last birthday <br />before the calendar turns to zeroes. <br />My neighbor says anything we plant <br />in September takes hold. <br />She’s lining pots of little grasses by her walk. <br /> <br />I want to know the root goes deep <br />on all that came before, <br />you could lay a soaker hose across <br />your whole life and know <br />there was something <br />under layers of packed summer earth <br />and dry blown grass <br />to moisten.<br /><br />Naomi Shihab Nye<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/last-august-hours-before-the-year-2000/
