The sky tonight, I’m surprised to find,
is grey instead of black;
dull enough to make me doubt
the stars are coming back.
But turning now, to your eyes,
cornflower blue and all,
reminds me how much time it took
to get from spring to fall.
That golden season wand’ring streets
at midnight hours passed,
and the happy, hopeful ignorance
of thinking it would last.
But with this crisper weather
and the dullness of the sky
comes all the joy of knowing you
and letting time go by.