as i look to the fall
for comfort,
i find that it is slow
in it's coming.
the leaves remain emerald,
and the humidity lingers.
the late days of September reminds us
it's been two years, thus we remember.
through it all I look foward to a light
that both beckons and moves.
i find no rest, on most days there is quiet
and time has to slow down.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem