by: Richard Wilbur
One wading a Fall meadow finds on all sides
The Queen Anne’s Lace lying like lilies
On water; it glides
So from the walker, it turns
Dry grass to a lake, as the slightest shade of you
Valleys my mind in fabulous blue Lucernes.
The beautiful changes as a forest is changed
By a chameleon’s tuning his skin to it;
As a mantis, arranged
On a green leaf, grows
Into it, makes the leaf leafier, and proves
Any greenness is deeper than anyone knows.
Your hands hold roses always in a way that says
They are not only yours; the beautiful changes
In such kind ways,
Wishing ever to sunder
Things and things’ selves for a second finding, to lose
For a moment all that it touches back to wonder.
It is the first official day of autumn. September 22.
Autumn used to be my favorite season. The colors. Ghost stories. Scary movies. Halloween and Thanksgiving. Now, it simply represents the time between mowing the lawn and shoveling snow. I think I'm officially old.
However, Saint Marty bought a bag of candy corn to celebrate the fall equinox.
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