Worn coral paths of history
Wind gently neath the evening shadows...

Shimmering light on dawn's lake
A rising sun of caramel gold...

When dusk comes, I take my walk
Meeting ghosts of Summers lost...

This spectral world, where few have tread
As Summer days to Autumn pass...

A forest pathway I follow
Through a distant misty hollow...

October winds, they came at last
Across the hills and ponds, they passed...

I vanished in the midnight wind
Neath silver glare of hallowed moon...

Small town, it sleeps neath darkened skies
Time to reflect as I unwind...

Blossoms rustle in the wind
Crocus bright and thistle blue...

A bank of mists burns scarlet gold
Across the dusk in Autumn skies...

I hear your voice reverberate
Captured on crumbling acetate...

At the gates of gloom,
By the shores of midnight waters...