Faint the sun,
Faint the blossom smell,
Faint the colors,
Faint, as well,
The sonorous ringing of the bell
In some grey church house
Far away.
All summer long
The flowers grew;
I brought water;
I pulled weeds.
And now, I see the petals fallen,
Now, I see the fallen seed.
The leaves need raking.....
See them lie.
The red, the golden
Catch my eye.....
First one, then many,
Hear them sigh.
A breeze is stirring,
Hear them sigh.
The trees are barren.
The limbs look old.
A few leaves linger.
A few leaves hold.
The twigs are trembling.
Are they cold?
The church bell peals forth,
Soft but bold.

Copyright (c) Spring 1965 by James R. Hoye