Only
The
Space
Of
A
Day,
Summer
Walked
Away
In
A
Shower
Of
Leaves.
We
Grieve
The
Loss
Of
Lazy
Sun
And
Endless
Time,
And
Shelter
From
The
Cold,
The
Season
Grown
Old,
The
Flowers
Going,
The
Shadows
Growing.
Winter
Will
Come
With
It’s
Sting
And
Bring
The
Frost,
The
Yearly
Cost
We
Pay
For
Cere’s
Sorrow,
As
We
Wait
For
Spring’s
Tomorrow.