In praise of the sound of crunching leaves

Graveyard, Arlington MA, October 2015. Photo by Meg Winikates

Graveyard, Arlington MA, October 2015. Photo by Meg Winikates

It’s autumn, and despite being an agreeably insane sort of busy right now, I had a chance to go out at lunch today and take in the seasonal delights. Peak foliage around town was actually probably the end of last week, but there’s still a lot of gorgeous to be had, and that brilliant invigorating bite in the breeze today is the sort that makes me glad to be alive.

And so in celebration of my favorite season, have a poem by fellow New Englander Emily Dickinson!

Besides the Autumn poets sing (131)
Emily Dickinson, 1830 – 1886

Besides the Autumn poets sing,
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze –

A few incisive mornings –
A few Ascetic eves –
Gone – Mr Bryant’s “Golden Rod” –
And Mr Thomson’s “sheaves.”

Still, is the bustle in the brook –
Sealed are the spicy valves –
Mesmeric fingers softly touch
The eyes of many Elves –

Perhaps a squirrel may remain –
My sentiments to share –
Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind –
Thy windy will to bear!

If you’re hungry for more autumnal poetry, you might want to check out this Wednesday’s Improbable Places Poetry Tour.  Imagined, organized, and hosted by poet and Montserrat professor Colleen Michaels, this month’s stop on the tour is at Green Meadows Farm in South Hamilton, MA, and a gathering of poets will be reading a selection of their works on the theme of “Harvest/Moon”– including me!

I’ll be there to listen, bask by the bonfire under the moon, and read one of my own night sky pieces.  Hope to see you there!

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