Indian Summer
by Wilfred Campbell
Along the line of smoky hills
The crimson forest stands,
And all the day the blue jay calls
Throughout the autumn lands.
Now by the brook the maple leans
With all his glory spread,
And all the sumachs on the hills
Have turned their green to red.
Or past some river's mouth,
Throughout the long, still autumn day
Wild birds are flying south.
~ Wilfred Campbell (1860 - 1918) Canadian, known as a Confederation Poet.
We are grateful to Laurie Miller, author of The Avro Arrow A Picture History for drawing to our attention this beautiful poem by Canadian poet, Wilfred Campbell.