Not in Summer

Not in summer or in spring,
But in autumn, at leaf-fall
When wood-smoke hides the hill
And shine the winter stars
I remember him.

For it was then that we set out
At the waning of the year
The waning of our time
The fall of kings and flight of Elves
In lands so far away.

So long ago it was, and yet
When winter stills the stream
In thought I venture forth
And once again in dream
I leave all else behind.

‘Come on Sam!’ he said to me
In that kind way of his. Had
Dragons barred the road
I would have gone but
There are worse than dragons.

‘All that is mine is yours’ he said
But white he seemed and cold
Struck by an early frost.
Master, friend and brother
And a world forever lost.

- Varda