On The Realizing of Skewed Hopes

Apple-picking in the fall
Antiquing in the autumn leaves
Dreams from catalogues we read
Never find the light of day.

We hoped that we could make the cut
And worked so hard against ourselves
But in the autumn light we found
The truth was not so kind.

But that itself is not quite true
(although it surely is today)
And we have loved an erring dream
And now we see it right.


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