My intent, is to wring dry our earth
Wallow in the spoils of existence
Ages beyond my birth

Tender yearnings
Plummet in bushels far and wide
Rife with hunger I pray their storm does not subside

With an autumn solstice in mind
I rummage through its orchard
Treasuring, every humble relic I find

Over the rails
Is where I deal in rage
Aligned with intrigue, and the plunder on every page

Dimly lit rendezvous wilt and decay
When gleaming, streaming insight falls
I coil and softly pray