Autumn, The Best of Seasons

Tis Fall the Best
Of Seasons.
Mild sunny days
Long cool nights
In Vee formation
Geese in flight.
South they fly
To warmer climes
A prelude to
Winters' icy charms.
The leaves from green
To yellow turn.then
Gold and red,then
Drift to ground
There form a bed
Where squirrels bound
From spot to spot
Burying nuts,later
To be found.
The Salmon run is past
They've spawned and died
In giving life.
On each morn
The Frost does lay
A crystal blanket
Where chipmunks play.
The crops are in
The corn piled high
The fields in fallow
Now do lie, to sleep
The Winter through.
The Harvest Moon
Shines yellow bright
To bathe the Pumpkins
In golden light.
The air is still
And clear as glass
An odd cloud cross
The Moon does pass.
Out on the Lake
The Loons give cry
As if to Summer
They say good-bye.
Tis Fall.

Thank you for this lovely poem. In the room where I am right now,I can look out the window and see the trees turning the golds and reds. It's so pretty right now.

This is beautiful, Camac.

I can only go into my mind's eye to experience an Autumn like this. Thank you for putting it into such a wonderful prose.

Flora

Once I favored spring…now I’m not sure anymore.
Thanks Dave.
JC

Always loved fall the best . . .

How could a person write it better? Just one well-loved and familiar image after another, called to mind and gently let fall, like a leaf.

Indeed fall is my prefered season after winter of course.
The air is crisp and fresh. Your poem cannot describe it better for it is the loveliest season.

Thank you.
LOA

Here is another poem about autumn, a little more somber and contemplative, that I came across today. I'll add it here, since it fits with your meditation, Dave:


To a Leaf Falling in Winter

by W. S. Merwin

At sundown when a day's words
have gathered at the feet of the trees
lining up in silence
to enter the long corridors
of the roots into which they
pass one by one thinking
that they remember the place
as they feel themselves climbing
away from their only sound
while they are being forgotten
by their bright circumstances
they rise through all of the rings
listening again
afterward as they
listened once and they come
to where the leaves used to live
during their lives but have gone now
and they too take the next step
beyond the reach of meaning

"To a Leaf Falling in Winter" by W.S. Merwin from Present Company. © Copper Canyon Press, 2007. Reprinted with permission.