Do you cry when the trees bleed?
And dance with the willow when he sweeps you away?

When Lady Autumn's giant asters have shrunken
To a skeletal army, Where do you go?

And have you seen the world among the lichens?

Of brittle minted towers and curling cradles, silent.

The lambs'-ears grip the dew, as if to give

Their stout woolens a hint of the jewelled

And today I found a cavernous forest
Secreted away under the fleshy tops of fungi ...

But where were you?