Scission Season

Cutting-off precedes the fall.
Trees withdraw their chlorophyll.

Lakes so low the dams don’t spill.
Small rains barely slick topsoils.

The soldiers’ swords all rattle.
Cold Mountain feels an old chill.

Republics fold their journals.
Der Erlkönig’s dry leaves swirl

To swarm children loosely held.
What’s not put up quickly spoils.