The last of homer

 Today the season called autumn begins.

 As the leaves began to fall
 and me an Old Man
 my thoughts also began to fall
 and I would like to speak this once
 to autumn -- about autumn.

 It doesn't continue on from here...

 I am abandoned, one after the other,
 like the World
 by the Grand hallucinations of Genesis
 the metaphors...
                             the allegories...
                                                         the symbols...

 They return to Greece with life
 and leave me with death in Troy.

 That is why I move along behind them
 to see at long last one clean day
 bringing thus this Epic to a definitive close
 and with Classical diction find a measure of happiness
 because Happiness is the Divine Cause
 even for its own Beginning.

 But I'm afraid
 that for the Modern critics of the Future
 to whom
 autumn may arrive
                                                         as eternal dark
 my words about autumn -- to autumn
 as if nothing was going on
 might then be incorporated into a chapter
 of the Iliad or the Odyssey
                             and thus its better if... I grow still.