Late Harvest
        —After Rilke's "Herbsttag"

Time, it is time.
Summer has been
long-stretched-out, full.
Go ahead, Fall:
shrink down the days
and sugar the grapes
for late-harvest wine.

Anyone still unknown
to herself will stay,
probably, that way.
Anyone unlinked by love
will be love-
left out now—waking,
mind-pacing
up and down
up and down,
restless as leaf-bits
and papers in the street.

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Copyright © 2015 Jeredith Merrin All rights reserved
from Cup
Able Muse Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission