Light Falls Early

When we say light falls early
this time of year, sometimes 
I think of light on its knees, 
then prostrate on the grass. 
I want to go outside, see if I
might help it up on its feet 
again. Perhaps it needs a boost; 
a bit of bread, a cup of orange 
juice, something to raise the blood 
sugar, lift the pall and emptiness
that comes as the curtains darken.
How many griefs lift their heads
and howl like wolves in the reed-
streaked hills? Bare branches open
to falling snow. Then the moon 
shows her face of burnished 
pewter— a consolation.