Of Leaf-song Spent...

The Brigadoon

Of middle June

And cricket-tune

And harvest moon

Is past

Fall's frosted stills

Mull heady thrills

And ruddy spills

Where summer’s frills

Are cast

The air is deep

A sea of sleep

Where seasons sweep

And eons steep

Its core

As Time is bent

With moments lent

Beneath a tent

Of leaf-song spent

Once more

© Janet Martin