From the height of summer, we slipped this morning toward winter’s realm.
For one still second the day and the night shared equal weight
One face in darkness, one in light
Bright June and hot July waved toward quiet December
Across September’s span.

But the fall is not arrested, the agreement cannot hold
The evening borrows minutes from the morning
And tomorrow we’ll know a lengthening loss
Or if we don’t, the leaves will tell us, and the birds
And the flat shadows.

The circling season carries us with gravity
But we have turned before and, familiar with this dance 
Know that every hour lent to autumn will be repaid in spring
And balance isn’t measured at the equinox
But in the total of the year.