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 Dayspring, August’s End, Iron Sky, Cider by Rusten Walter Harris, November by William Cullen Bryant, October by Robert Frost, A Seduction: in Four Seasons, A 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 Brain, Jonah, Come Thou Dayspring, I Love it When you Call me Khaleesi, Paper Hearts, Does God still have a body?