Saturday, October 10, 2015


And so this errant honour returns
This usurper of comfort and plenty
It lays a cold hand upon your face
Nips and shivers your aching fingers
Traces pictures on each breath exhaled
Fading dragons smoke on the cooling air
And these once bare feet of summer
Seek out a refuge in autumn's wool
And only when they are warm again
May the knight have his chilly way
For I shall acquiesce to it till spring
Because winter may not be stopped