Autumn

Autumn

I love this season best inside the lonely woods.
Just before the coldpinch squeezes green to gray
And x-ray-visions glen to vale to ridge to sky
Until the whitetails fly through everything I see. The
Paths I couldn't push through in the warm green weather;
All the fine bones, the land's body hidden in
Leaf layers, open in the closing of the year.

Walk with me now, your hand toward the light
To shade the long rays that first reveal, then hide
Ways that open for the frosty scythe that harvests
On these moon-cold nights the revelations of the day.

I love you best within the days of daylight waning.
Just before the generation-change gives us both a new name
And love stands shaved of beauty, sex and even breath,
Turned to memories made of photos of the past. The
Times you pushed me back when my passion smothered;
All your secret glories, all the layers: Loving, lying,
Leaving, long-lost, open in the closing of the years.

Autumn by Judy Schilling




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