August's End

When fruits ripen, plans come to fruition, and loved ones pass on

Hi there.

This is a poem I wrote on my first ramble through the woods in a while, soaking in the afterglow of my final day with the Northwest Youth Corps. The full-time management duties were undoubtedly trying my patience and physical and mental fortitude for the ten weeks I was leading community crews of teen boys doing invasive weed removal and other…