October 12
For a while yet the walnuts
Will drop to the earth at night
Like exclamations about what
We forgot to do and now
It’s too late to do anything
But remember. Then
Next week a wind in the maple
Will turn the sky to stained glass
As what’s forgotten again
Again takes root
Translations from the English 
I loved the metaphor and the imagery embodied in this poem. Wonderful.
Thanks Kate! Thank you for the visit.
Ah, lovely. Much to ponder here…