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 autumn run
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)