The Last Day Of October

The last day of October - of the year -
Before the misted bending air prevails,
Before the unfelt wind upon the sails,
The last day, like a pure-toned bell, hangs clear.
And if the winter roars or softly blows
It will not touch this isolated hour,
It will not move a moment of this flower
That, only to its ending, slowly grows.
A pause, to hear the stillness still unyoked
By call of bird or wind - life is elsewhere.
These words do not by motion move the air;
They dance against the day and are revoked.

All time in time or out of time is here;
The last day of October - of the year.