Days Diminish
When days dwindle down to enough hours for two hands, When the bite of bitter breezes blows through to the bone, When silent shadows stretch sideways across the laden orchards, Hold fast to what you can, friends and kin alike, For none now know what the future carries with it. Autumn is the time of grace and gratitude, For we see what we have wrought, We reap what we have sown, We must bear what the Winter must bring. Count up what you have stored, In home, harvest, hand, and heart; For by the time of the thaw, It may be gone with the ice and snow. There's no telling for any tomorrow.
Days diminish. Cold comes. Shadows spread. Come close. None knows. Grace, gratitude. Wealth wrought. Seeds sown. Winter's weight. Stores sorted. Home, harvest. Hand, heart. Thaw's truth. Snow's sorrow. 'Til tomorrow.
