|
A POEM OF AUTUMN
I walk on roads where brown words
Hang heavy on the trees,
And bulbous blood-red berries
Crown over the winding avenues
Where the birds are packing up
For long journeys,
Their discarded flakes of nestleaf
Drunkly swirl down the spinning whiffs
Where a badger
Snuffles out a hedge,
Takes one busy look,
Then flees the scene
Rustling through the thorns and fern.
Where the low sun
Swipes a stripe of light
Along the scarlet hawlines
And defies the bruised September sky
And the last crazy wasps
Frantically search for a deposit
Before sundown, before death,
Woozing about in the fat rays.
Where proud geldings stand
High above a crisping pool
Of dying green,
Mirroring the chestnut of their
Auburn sheen.
Big bursting sycamores
Proudly arabesque
And rasp a tongue
At their approaching nudity
As my shadow darkens taupe
Dancing, angled into the briars,
And I glide toward a season of breaths,
Glistening in an early frost.
|
