The Otherness

In the trailing, unblinking light Of that last morning in summer, With my suitcase now packed - and locked From the drift of time uncounted As a hammock swings slow its pause; I felt the chill of winter's shade In the culmination of change When snow whistles at the keyhole In land beyond the glossy sea, Where a clock's ticking charts the day, And nights are covered in from stars; And I said farewell to the sand And flecking spray of tumbled waves; And as the path closed behind me, An autumn leaf came down like fire From the fastness of dawn's great gates; And in the turn of the moment I saw the otherness of things Held in a glimpse beyond my own.