The last robin has gone
Overhead the barking cry of wild geese
Imparts a trembling excitement
A stirring within me
Primeval emotions
A strange mixture of disturbing feelings
Make unfamiliar demands

An itinerant breath of wind
Trickles through frail leaves
Set free, they flutter earthward
Lifeless wings
Terminal flight

A crisp coolness in the air
Fosters a feeling of uneasiness
Small hairs on neck and arms stand erect
A tingling rush
The chill caresses my skin

Almost within grasp
The moment flees, retreating
From a sudden outburst of noise
A neighbor has discovered the radio
Rock and Roll dominates

Looking back to the sky
I see that the geese have gone
So has the spirit’s call, and as always
I have remained
Behind.