Night


Night had fallen and
while with the first sweater
from the closet it seemed 
like it was already winter,
 but it had barely been September
the harvest moon had yet to rise
and my thoughts were dancing 
through meadows turned golden
in the October sun
where footpaths through headstones 
which marked the way
seemed subtle compared to the travesty
of my ignorant display.

Once I found I could explain,
 I wondered why.

                                                      R. Summers