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7     The Death of Summer
8     Dedication
9
at the end of the summer
you come back from journeys to
	hot stars
		horses
in an open field
raise manes to the trough of wind
leaving the chill of embracing nights

in just a while the year will end
(shaking it will be stored away in the stalls
	of memory like the last thought 
	of hunting)
the end of summer
and already the beating of pastures in a chorus 
	of bells of light
 
By: Oded Peled   From: "Windows, Balcony, Backyard"