The Off Season

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Frozen autumn leaves

Frost the path before me;

Hoar hovers over

Naked trees;

/

In wan wintry skies

Briefly rests the night

Before once again

Filling the eyes to the brim;

/

And the snow won’t fall,

And the sun won’t rise -

Naught would light the true face

Of this moment in time

/

When the past is gone,

While the future fears

To step on the same path

As I