Fall come soon!
Whisper in my ears
The mournful song
Of fleeting geese.
Fold me in your arms
The last warm embrace
Before the cold.
Let your vividly hued dress
Fall around my head.
May I taste
Of your sweet labour
In golden fields abroad.
Must icy fingers
Rush upon us so?
Your fleeting days coming
Sooner, sooner, knocking
Upon season's door.
Finally, the fall
Of the times has come.