Lord, it is time now,
for the summer has gone on
and gone on.

Lay your shadow along the sun-

dials and in the field
let the great wind blow free.

Command the last fruit
be ripe:
let it bow down the vine --

with perhaps two sun-warm days
more to force the last
sweetness in the heavy wine.

He who has no home
will not build one now.

He who is alone
will stay long
alone, will wake up,
read, write long letters,

and walk in the streets,

walk by in the
streets when the leaves blow. 

John Logan, from "Homage to Rainer Maria Rilke," Collected Poems (BOA Editions)