Year
"Late Summer's Pause for Reflection"
Born of July's brighter days
And of August's sweetened hay;
On a cooler morning
I was given pause.
-- I was suddenly terrified.
-- I was lost in many ways.
No cinnamon, no honey,
No more violets left at dawn.
Spring had been so fruitful
After a winter ever long.
No homeland, no more safety,
No more lover, only scorn.
Summer vanished overnight.
It's covers still felt warm.
The rose hips now are cherry red,
Yet the salted air is low,
Trampled by the hurried sky,
As autumn winds will blow.
To look at my reflection,
No longer seeing it's worth,
Chanced that I would let it go,
And bury it in the Earth.