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last degrees of warmth
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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
