Comments about David Wood
Autumn ushers in the golden blaze of leaf
When every tree delightfully looks their best,
And long shadows point with fingers brief
With the sun slung on a low horizon blest.
The pale days, now shorter as of late,
Mark the end of summer and the eve of winters fall.
Blackberries sprinkled in the hedge soon to make
A feast of a pie at the end of summer ball.