On Visiting Autumn
Published in
1 min readNov 20, 2016
Autumn, nature’s culmination,
The relentless greens of summer gone,
An end-of-season fireworks finale.
Orange, yellow and red,
The town I visit,
A psychedelic crazy quilt.
A dazzling display that delights:
Vibrant, shimmering beauty,
An impressionist painting awakened.
A dazzling display that depresses:
Are these leaves not dying?
Won’t color soon be sucked from them?
Won’t they be shed,
brown discards
moulded into earth?
Blue, green, and white
The town I live in,
A warm womb of wonder.
I have lived a long and verdant summer
Where the color of the flowers in the trees
Mark the months and years.
Is there a steadfast season?
Can I escape the fall to winter?
If the seasons do not change, do I?
