*The year as a cycle
Has now taken its turn
first corner winter
Showed its pale face
Then hid behind a cloud
Second corner spring
Promethean flame
Ran, ignited, candled chestnut trees to flower
Summer's staff
Of thirteen bars
Has played
Erased
Forgotten
Fourth corner Autumn
Heralds the coming winter
And while his golden trumpet blast
Looks and leaps to corners deep
Three sons of Fall
Turn all to gold
The fist to leaf
The next to light
The last will hide
As if in fright
And wait until
His chance is right
to freeze the life
Its self to gold
Then leaves to cry
So sad
So cold
What care I for this
My "Sonnet to the fall"
Clouds now sweep across the sky
Blue now turns to grey
The smile
Of the sun's
Disappearing
And see
How Autumn's golden touch
Is opening its hand
Summer's songs
Erased from the score sheet
By silent hands
What care I for this
My "Sonnet to the fall"
