Before the Frost
In the bouldered prairie
sumac flares up
red here and there,
and bison rest between
stiff spikes of mullein
with wooly leaves.
The creek waterfall
has dried to a trickle,
the rocks that flank it
shelter yet moss in layers
once carved by torrents.
Elsewhere, deer bound
off into the woods,
a spent oriole nest
lies beside the path
beneath cottonwoods.
After the rain comes,
small bird voices will
fill every bush and tree
one last time
before the frost.
Charlotte Melin grew up in Indiana and returns to visit. Recently retired from the University of Minnesota, she lives in Northfield and has published widely about German poetry, the environmental humanities, and teaching.