Song for Autumn
In the deep fall
don’t you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the
nothingness of air and the endless
freshets of wind? And don’t you think
the trees themselves, especially those with mossy,
warm caves, begin to think
of the birds that will come – six, a dozen – to sleep
inside their bodies? And don’t you hear
the goldenrod whispering goodbye,
the everlasting being crowned with the first
tuffets of snow? The pond
vanishes, and the white field over which
the fox runs so quickly brings out
its blue shadows. And the wind pumps its
bellows. And at evening especially,
the piled firewood shifts a little,
longing to be on its way.
by Mary Oliver
Related Articles
2 Comments
-
Mary Oliver’s poetry is….is…
beyond my meager words of praise!Thank you, dear Polly, for bringing us her Autumn leaves this morning.
-
P.S. Oh! I meant to thank you for your lovely Fall Fotos, as well!
Beautiful….beautiful. Fall color is such a Special Treat.(We need Treats right now….)
){kind=link}