Autumn calls -
Her whistling song
Of yellow
Dies in sorrow-red;
Morrow greys
Upon the blue.
We bend into Her breeze,
Hide sienna-summer skin
To shiver in our coats,
Ghosting ‘til the spring.
Yet we kiss Her warm,
Then rise to greet the winter;
And in the ice
Recall Her blush,
The manic leaves.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012
Mark R Slaughter
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-of-autumn/
