A yellow Tanager sings a Lux Aeterna
In darkening Norwegian spruce without any consequence.

Your eyes blur these hills in glaucoma of valerian and smoke: A coming ransom of wind and falling leaves,
In defiance of conventional reason.

Around our heads,
Stars formed distant wreaths of bright marigolds –
It was a zodiac of the bygone summers we could never regain.

The gates were closing,
And beyond reason in the last titian light, The guards allowed us to pass.