06 November 2014


Autumn.  The last sweet season before winter’s frost
Covers the earth and everything burrows inward.
A tender chill is in the air, and piled colors lost
From where they grew crunch underfoot upon the yard.

I am a visitor tonight, returning to the grounds
Where long ago I brought books and heart, as offerings to place
Onto discovery’s doorstep.  Now, hearing vibrant sounds
I follow a row of lampposts where athletes set to race.

I watch the gracefulness of youth, the passion which commands the field.
To spectators, age has gifted scarring for body and soul. 
And you, my cherished, peaceful warrior, whose intellect is battle’s shield
In this summering of life will sprint anew, leave our borders, leave us all.

Beloved voyager, I have no power to make clocks lose motion
And I know how futile the attempt to show my devotion.