Celebrate promise of renewal amid another dying season?
Somebody point me in the direction of the sun
My back doesn't speak of rejection
in the dark, undiscovered and ignorant
What can my purpose be, if not to seek warmth?
I'm here to embrace the dappled sunrise
Let the sweat of autumn linger on dry lips
in the green arriving in sweet anticipation
What can my reason be, if not to lust a taste?
And you can hear me singing from a mile away
Do you turn to run, greet in our safe meadow?
Thrush throttle their throats to trill our love?
What can our answer be, if not to live forever?
That's when the first swaying leaf gently detaches
Flannel and blue blanketed in the ear gush
Colorful feathers of joy sweep a pale horizon
What can this season be, if not our bliss end?