Falling leaves mark the beginning
     of natures fast . . .
       Winter is coming

Hear her Icy bell blowing distance
   through your memory,
       as trees half naked
       spot the ground with clearer vision

         “Oh alas, the winds of winter blow
              captive through my soul
          And place the stones in order, spring
               doth disavow

           Whose cold reprieve an answer grants
                 in frosted shortened light
            To spread new life upon this breast,
                —and natures womb”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 1977)