Write a season poem and name it the season. So, okay, I didn’t really name mine “Autumn.”
Call me a rebel.
“I only hear the shadows groan”
The tree shadows groan and she asks me
if the autumn sky opens the day in thanks
for the winds that shake the forest throne,
do the leaves blow, she wonders, with
smiles and hugs as they roam the wood
for laurel mothers inside the forest home.
I have no eyes for stormy dreaming, I tell her
I only hear the shadows moan.
The day rains soft with dancing yews and
tiny gnomes huddled inside mulchy domes,
but in the night,
inside Autumn’s forest throne,
I can only hear the shadows groan.
(photo courtesy U.S. Fish and Wildlife Services)