Year\'s Yield.
Now dawn breaks
slowly brindling the heavens
with russet striations
of honey-tone cold,
painting change of October
to mellow
on swaying meadows
of harvest bonus.
*
*
*
Now I bow
to be-whiskering greenness
as autumn begins
its downward chorus,
fields grow now tawny
with ready corn-ears
show time shoulders sything
ever forward.
*
*
*
Now cuddles down
all roots double-deep for freeze
urges races for extra cover
while underneath movement
curls for sleep
while garden-work waits until
winter is done.
*
*
*
Now I shall lay
down my own bent labour,
after nurturing yield
I will welcome rest
from summer abundance
but in savouring
year\'s produce must start
to plan for the next.