Autumn light
Emerging First And Last Of Love
From a mist covered pink-red sun
They said
This is how the world will end
With such violent winds, such visceral skies
And so you sit, sit and watch, sit
And listen to the whistle, sit
And listen, listen to the shaking timbers
And so I sit and write, I sit
And write some more, I sit
Until I hear someone knocking at the door
