Windows fall lonely with the setting sun
Gold shadows are cast through the valley
And yellow tipped leaves sitting on trees
Balance the deep evergreen with the
Dying grass, splayed deep into the horizon
And with the deep fall night falling heavily
the mist at the East end of the valley rises
As if gyros were actively spewing steam forth
From its guttural bowels in sighs of relief
One moment a deep gold descends upon the valley
And in the next breath an early evening dusk
Settles itself upon the livestock that graze
The giant fur stretch their arms wide
Before they fall into a long nights slumber