"Caprica in Autumn"
                         (by Pat Harkin)

My fondest memory of home
Is of Caprica in autumn,
When the frost first came,
And in the mornings,
The trees were red and silver
And the grass was diamonds
And the water was a glass mirror
To the flocks above
And the air was crisp and smelled of harvest.

My fondest memory of home
Is of Caprica in autumn
With the still-strong sun
Warming the days
And we'd run in the light
And roll through the leaves
And watch the bright birds
Who made homes in the branches
And flew through the last days of glory.

My fondest memory of home
Is of Caprica in autumn,
When the evening chill came on
As the sun went down
And the shadows crept over
The thornforest hills
And the flower colors faded
As the stars above
Came out in the sky from a bottomless well.

My fondest memory of home
Is of Caprica in autumn...