Carol Fleming Klein
Leaves wind dancing
frost kissed brown grasses
round my feet.
Leaves rustle, crunch...
as I momentar'ly stop
haunted by Autumn's
this strewn battlefield
this lost richness about me.
And I feel
like a windblown leaf,
thrated, destiny commanded
by the lordly wind
who tightly wraps
his chill fingers about me
to toss me forth.
Must my fate balance
in his cool careless fingers?
Must my gold-scarlet splendor
be doomed to indifference
November 1981 or 1982
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Comments about this poem (Autumn by Carol Fleming Klein )
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