Amid the fields and rivers
And scent of honeycomb,
I heard the summer calling
For me to head back home.

The sky was tinged with cantaloupe,
The wind was warm and slack,
But I knew if I made it home
I’d never make it back.

Out by the ancient river,
I said my last goodbyes
To summer, with its passions,
Beneath those melon skies.

For one day, we must turn away
From all that we know best:
For when the summer calls us home,
It’s finally time

To rest