In early December
November’s leaves still adorn
The woodland lawn.
Man’s pattern is made
In light and shade.
But the gardener’s rake
Rakes all leaves.
In early December
November’s leaves still adorn
The woodland lawn.
Man’s pattern is made
In light and shade.
But the gardener’s rake
Rakes all leaves.
In early December
I heard
The dawn bird
And did remember
Another year
Will soon end.
My friends
Are growing older.
I hear
Pretty young women
Ask me
About family matters.
There will be
No more sinning.
Merely hot tea
And matters
Of domesticity
For me.