Auburn mesh of mellowing leaves and a shade Of mild sun in the sky, isn’t the world shying up for a long quiet? Slow arrival of the dawn, its brisk departure into evenings, I embrace The night with an intense warmth now. Stars seem to photodegrade, their tiny dabs stitching up The cloak of the mists around. The earth has become solemn, the breeze tells. I can sense the fading whispers of trees as a lull Slowly forms upon the hills. Few drifting clouds look for ironies and leave Disappointed. The music from the rivers has turned cold on them.