Today -
The first cold day;
In the pale light,
The mixed sensation:
Gray sky, cold air,
And resignation.
Yet the leaves cling
Still to the trees;
Just a few turned brown,
Blown down.
Outside -
Breezes sting;
Newspaper kiosks
Through headlines
Speak to the sunrise
While a bird sings:
This week the President,
While waging war,
Won the Peace Prize.
The time is out of joint.
O cursed spite
That ever I was born
To set it right!
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