Montana Time

In the coolness of the morning It's Montana time. And even though winter Is on the horizon, Let us pretend that Today – this late summer day – Will last forever. The leaves still are green, With just a touch of golden coming on. We make music Because we must. We capture the summer in a song – A rapture almost spent. Meanwhile the birds Are dusting their feathers. They know that soon They will fly away. And as always the earth tilts To its appointed season.