last degrees of warmth

Hyacinth garden

placed with shadows, like ground frost on brown grass

while leaves stir into November's autumn air

dishevelled autumn in my night heart where times are hard

trees alike have emptied their leaves scattered to the four winds

still, I have no harvest, no reaping from spring

the lonely brittle brown leaf journeys mile after mile

curling mists echo the lost amorous sentiments

the setting moon reflects my feelings

from that place our unwed act of last farewell

I look alone at the bright hunters moon, as the tears fell

now marsh grasses are scarcely seen after struggle

before the last degrees of warmth fade to ice and snow

unknown dawn old friend neglected

wave your hand from here and go

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