Spray in the fall winds
washes summer dust away-
The berries bear finds
greet the black earth's
furrows o'er turned.

Wheat rushes to tell
the secrets of death to
the cattle grazing on
the last sweet grass.

Old crows soar against
a scorched sky soothed
by the scent of frost.

Summer pays for what time shall cost.
When the harvest is nigh childhood is lost.