It's getting colder Mr. Alder
Branches trembling in the wind
Footprints freeze among the leaves
Heading towards October's end
Sleepy eyes on Sunday night
Anticipating Monday morn
Hawk squawking at the crow
Feathers flying in the corn
Amber brown and crackling sounds
Shadows hide an orange moon
Yellow leaves on the eves
Gently fall outside my room
And the spirits come between sleep and dreams
From a land deep in the past
Then fade like the sound of distant geese
And sand through the hourglass
Dogs are howling cats are prowling
The King of Gold has arrived
