The steadily falling cold September rains
Continue to pour upon tattered lanes;
Over flattening fields of soddened wheat,
Drenching the grass, splashing the feet.
Stands the tractor in the shed;
The unripened apples hanging ruddy red.
Stands the caped pelican in solitude –
His flickering eye as cold as stone.
And in amongst the many puddles
We step around like our troubles:
So stumble ahead with our retreat
Like drunken fools in the street.
And through this months darkly frowns
The cleansing downpours wash the towns;
Scrubs the spire from ingrained time –
Exonerate the guilt from the crime!