4.16.2010

Autumn

it is addressed thusly:
A fragment.

it reads:
Cool crisp inviting
Of wet swept gutter falling
now underfoot, leaves

Above, final gold
A crown to a year like wool
Damp air, clouds scud'ling

This taste of smoke means
Hearths are lit somewhere unseen
A new elder time

I breathe chill, retire
Inward, and see before me
Through glass: gold, wine, rose.

Night, coming with lamps
Lit and ever deep'ning gold
to brown soon, falling.

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