An early (and, I hope, long) autumn.
Autumn Constellations
Trees growing lean, and leaning
A little more now toward the west
Each dusk, trying to hold on to
The light, the lights of their leaves
Flaring brighter and falling away,
Gathering into drifting windrows
Along the fence, mist at the edge
Of the pasture rising like smoke.
Still, something there is that makes
Us keep looking up, leaves replaced
By stars, how almost every one is
Part of the oldest stories we know,
The ones that say we are not alone
Nor lost in the deepening darkness
Between embers of leaf-light below,
The beautiful and terrible gods above.
Poetry by countryfog
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Editors' choice
Written on 2012-09-19 at 15:43
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Esti D-G |
Editorial Team |
Lawrence Beck |
Rob Graber |
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