Before First-Frost Poem by Michael Shindler

Before first-frost enfolds the woodland glade,
Compelling fowl and foliage to flight,
Anoint the earth with balm of prayers prayed.

The bodies of beleaguered brothers laid
Have yet to rot and yet to reunite,
Before first-frost enfolds the woodland glade.

Ornate knights returned with unreturned blade,
Yearning a respite of rule and rite,
Anoint the earth with balm of prayers prayed.

The glow of the fresh-born, fated to fade,
Will keep balefires gentle and hearths alight,
Before first-frost enfolds the woodland glade.

Men ripened, bearing brows wizened and grayed,
Who foresee that the threads of fate are white,
Anoint the earth with balm of prayers prayed.

The fields are all cut; the fruits are all weighed.
The high vault of heaven is capped by night.
Before first-frost enfolds the woodland glade,
Anoint the earth with balm of prayers prayed.