September's leaves are under snow
and becoming something else.
I am restless for them,
and cold, and coming apart.
Everything must end, that is the law,
but it is only written in the fall.
It circles my heart in gold,
I stand in the forest, call back to you.
Beware a safer admonition,
draw deep the lonely air.
Listen, I am drumming for you,
and by daybreak will be there.
Everything must begin.
I will speak my piece in salt hail,
that tears me to the bone,
and bend my knee for what i find
in you, with you, alone.
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