Time For a Tender Trip
When the Blithe sky Becomes Dark faster than I could rise
When the Life of the Trees
Falls away--the Wind takes them where he wants them
The Remnants Singed by Strife of the averageman
In Its Depths the Cold will come, faster than I did
The Sanguine Moon tells its TimeFor the farmer-to work again-to carry again
Atmospheric Silence fills the old Daylight's dark
I Remember the Days of Yore, when the Sun's Grace used to shine
When Green Dominated all--yet fell for brown
Its Time For a Tender trip.
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