This evening, autumn walked beside me,
it was I who found myself short of words;
Autumn never hesitated, but spoke
in the constancy of everything seen,
yet, without a word; I, the one who took,
attempted to give back, as if to process
gifts to render them more worthy in words,
each forward step wound to increase the charge,
to switch on, to burn the memorable phrase.
Yet, autumn without words pervades the scene,
fulfils the mood of every living thing;
stage-lights the land, controls the length of days;
the perfect walking companion, to lift
the spirits, all without a word to say.