Fall

there was a touch and then there was gold -

gold and also silver wands of barks

from some nordic ship that sailed

out of the skies and bathed all in 

viking mysteries on roads that flow

as rivers flow from mountain to sea,

without knowing the way to any one’s

home to town to the cities far away...

o we wish we were there,

knowing where we are going - for we are

lit on our path by the gold torches

that will be put out again, as every year,

by the first, and then, the second, rain....