October’s few leaves are as bright as the hopes
I possessed but a few days ago,
But that rare mood today is as bleak as the slope
That will shortly be covered with snow.
Yet, the blackest of hills and the barest of trees
But relax for the future’s full swing;
So my darling forgive me if, down on my knees
I pray for Love’s recurring spring.
by Ray Romine Sunday, February 18, 1951
