The Forge: Short Fiction: November 2004 Archives
Longing for Another Autumn Eve
Another early sunset brings
Another windy Autumn eve,
Another night that swoons and sings,
Another song of sweet reprieve.
From clocking hours and ticking clocks;
From surrounding crowds, yet all alone;
From hollow house and winsome walks
That only end when you come home.
The death of another Autumn day,
The cold wind blows without respite,
But your fire holds the dark at bay --
Seals in the heat and bounds the night.
Alas, my dear, too soon you leave!
O, for another burning Autumn eve!
