Autumnal

She was a fire in the fall last year.
I had her close to turn away the chill.
The skies were dull as they are now.
The combines having ravaged them,
The fields were barren, brown.
Only she could make it seem like
Spring, and this she did until that
Season had arrived, but, this year,
She always is gone. The fire, if it's
Even lit, is too far off to keep me
Warm. The gloom has come. The
Air has chilled, and fall seems only
What it is, not anything like spring.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 70 times
Written on 2015-11-10 at 23:48

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