Autumn stirs the morning coffee with a cream pendulum,
Pressing Winter’s grind from the water of October’s Bodum.
Harvest, a time of gleaning, borne from fervent resolutions
In tilled soil; this year’s plans, aspirations and reflections
Germinated in the green house savannas of imagination,
Filling fall baskets of manifested regalia;
Skadi’s purse, dispensed as he prepares
To linger, in the polar kingdoms of Winter.