Betwixt - Missoula, Montana

Along my drive home just after 9:00 yesterday evening, the sunset show was well underway, its golden primal donna already resting on the western mountain range. Surprise, surprise! - Summer has committed to its waning hours, closing up shop long before the 10 pm final curtain of end-of-June evenings. 
These golden grasses leaning toward autumn speak their own reminder, echoing this verse by Janet Martin: 

"Alas, alas, our days are as grass
Our wisdom a grain of sand
Alas, alas, the summers pass
As I, like a mute yet stand
Watching time, like phantom infantry
March beyond the hills
Beyond the moon, beyond the sea
Beyond the starry sills..."

Ponder the full poem, 'A Dandelion Seed' here, and Janet's current poetic musings at Another Porch...A Poetry Blog.