Autumn

driven through by her own sword

summer died last night, alone

even the ghosts huddle up for warmth

autumn has come to my hometown

friendly voices, dead and gone

singing star of the country down

even the ghosts help raise the barn

here now in my hometown

when out of the (massing apples in the bogs)

in the cold West

flew a waxwing who falls and died against my breast

and all the while, rain, like a weed in the tide, swans and lisps

down on the gossiping lawn, saying, "tsk, tsk, tsk"

i may have changed

it's hard to gauge

time won't account for how i've aged

would i could tie your lying tongue

who says that leaving keeps you young

and i have got no control

over my heart, over my mind

over the hills, the rainclouds roll

i, winter, here wait for a sign

to cast myself out over the water

riven like a wishbone

you'd hardly guess

i was my own mother's daughter

i, a naturally (given alone)

and i lay low when i return

and i move like a gurney whose wheels are squeakin'

alone in a home

and i laugh when you speak

of my pleasure-seekin'

among the tall pines

along the lay-lines

lay away the rune kings

they lie where the moon leans

lie where alone, my violent love lays

down in a row of silent dove-grey days

here in a row of silent dove-grey days

wherever i go, i am snow-bound

by thoughts of him who my runes shine

i love them all, one by one

cannot gain ground

cannot outrun

but time marches along

you can't always stick around

but when the final count is done

i will be in my hometown

i will be in my hometown