She is the lady of the harvest--
                 I travel blindly to her garden
                 to smell the flowers and bask
                 in the remnants of what is left
                 of dead October;
                 she shows me how to look
                 into the garbage, into the flowers
                 to see the heroes in the weeds,
                 the ladies in the morning;
                 they lean out towards love,
                 they will lean that way forever
                 and ever.