Autumn Woolgathering

i draw a lingering breath, what is that I hear? as I contemplate this year, the coming of death. “Thirty days hath September” the leaves chant in brown autumn arrives, falling down. And we remember… our own breakdowns once again - chills we don't address. Short of sevenfold success - winter will bring pain. Unlike the diligent ant we grasshoppers rest in hopes that God will have blessed striving - scarce and scant On winter's close arrival God counts to seven virtues borne out in heaven, for man's survival. Starting with humility; second, he lists truth. Murder he counts as uncouth use civility. Peace and harmony displace evil’s bent to fight Do what’s honest and upright grant your kin God’s grace. To fall's woolgath'ring resign, celebrate wise thoughts. Begin to connect the dots of winter’s design. September 30, 2019 envelope rhyme