Falling for Fall
For the first day of fall, a little fall poem:
Summer has come and gone, but fall, my favourite season, lingers on.
Lush greens give way to a startling palette of reds, oranges and yellows
And the countryside is splashed with colour.
But too soon the leaves are gone
Their withered remains blow about on chill fall winds like so many lost souls,
Piling up along the fences, seeming to huddle together for warmth.
Only the leathery gold gingko leaves remain, pooling below the tree
As if the colour had melted and flowed down to the ground.
A lichened gargoyle peeks out from under the arbour,
Guarding my domain against evil spirits.
Barren scapes of daylilies stand above clumps of spent foliage
Like pins in a pincushion.
The garden is preparing for a well-earned winter rest,
It’s blooms now long gone
Save for the sinuous white flowers of the bugbane
Lurking in the far corner.
The night sky is wide and black
Like a length of velvet floating over the earth.
Frost on the grass sparkles, mirroring the stars above,
Chronicling my random garden wanderings in soft white depressions.
The old apple tree is silhouetted against the evening sky.
Bare now, it’s crooked form stands in stark contrast
To the ripe, round celadon apples still clinging to it’s branches
Like so many small luminescent moons.
Soon their grip will fail and they will drop to the ground
To be consumed by the creatures of the dusk,
The deer, the foxes, the coyotes.
The dogs stand entranced, heads raised,
Breathing in the damp, primal odors
Of the newly turned fields,
Tasting molecules recent and ancient,
Devouring stories of the land
As silence falls across the fields.
Copyright 2011 Anne Corke
Flickr Photos
Cavan Reflections 
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