The patient dance of the September sun,
Making its slow journey through the dotted sky,
Proceeding in its exodus,
Over mountains snaking the outskirts of the valley,
Where sun will start its early winter cycle,
Through the coming months.

Premature winds,
Developing undulate postures
In the rhinestone sky,
Rustling fields of barley,
Amber maples,
Moist mosses clinging,
The verdant silks of the Earth.

The slow trickle-trickling
Of murky warm streams,
Their stillness intruded,
By the melting snows of mountains high,
Shaping sky-reflecting rivers;
Always flowing,
Never stopping.

Winter,
Bringer of frost and rain,
Storms of blinding cold,
Has opened her impassive eyes to the world.