In darker skies I watch southward bound fowl
making elongated V forms in the sky.
The late Autumn wind is beginning to howl
reminding me of a long and mournful sigh.
All the oak trees have aborted their green
as the entire earth has faded to gray.
It seems everything has lost its sweet sheen
Summer's memory has long passed away.
In the morning I see silver rhyme of frost
spreading far and wide across barren ground
It seems to me everything has been lost
and there is nothing left of the warmth once found.
From this sullen dimness I feel great sorrow.
We wait in earnest for Spring's tomorrow.
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