Prelude for winter

Homely sentiments eschewed. They waged wars
On that land. Blades of grass swirled 
And tangled—danced
At the call of the wind.

They cried confusion
Near the end of autumn, and as I stood
In the centre of the field, I remembered

How I felt—
A mutiny 
Of voices, no longer vapid, 
Each screamed 
For a cause (so noble) as they made war. 
They charged
Each strike homewards.

Dale Chou
2003-11-12