Where is warmth and where can the light be found?
These days, the workers put in longer hours
than the sun who goes too soon to sleep.
All the leaves, once bright, now have dulled and browned
with the sunken gourds and withered flowers
to feed the molds and mushrooms that creep
between rotting crab-apples on the ground.
Milk always smells sweet before it sours
and the gold of the afternoon won’t keep.


More poems on Moss Kingdom about Autumn:

Come Thou DayspringAugust’s EndIron SkyCider by Rusten Walter HarrisNovember by William Cullen BryantOctober by Robert FrostA Seduction: in Four SeasonsA Closer Kind of Warm: a break-up-with-summer song


For more poems exploring multi-syllabic rhymes here on Moss Kingdom, check out these: Panda Loose in My BrainJonahCome Thou DayspringI Love it When you Call me KhaleesiPaper HeartsDoes God still have a body?