And in these final days I am reminded of you. How the light shone from you like summer, picked up the fallen leaves in fall, carrying them to that moving horizon. The brick and mortar of these walls rocks older and older, but the trees grow stronger. Dispute the cold, and the winter, and the rushing sky. In these last days before I come home, I am reminded of you. Let swing the infinite childhood of seasons. The pollen count is out horoscope, god speed to the stars, and out homes beneath.