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The Belltower

 the weighing is done in autumn
and the sifting
what is to be threshed
is threshed in autumn
what is to be gathered is taken

the wind does not die in autumn
the moon
shifts endlessly thru flying clouds
in autumn the sea is high

& a golden light plays everywhere
making it harder
to go one's way.
all leavetaking is in autumn where there is leavetaking it is always autumn & the sun is a crystal ball on a golden stand & the wind cannont make the spruce scream loud enough

Poem by Diane Di Prima
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