It was starting to change.
I walked nonchalantly
down the park sidewalk
under the tired oaks
in the late afternoon.
Dead leaves scurried past me
as the wind pressed my back.
with its jealous moon,
has begun to push away the sun
sooner in the day.
And the cool breeze
reminds me of what was…
what no longer is.
The summer is dead
along with its many sins
The abhorrent heat,
which has ripened
the vilest perversions of life,
has gone away.
with its merciless vigor,
will no longer burn,
will no longer deaden the
the vitality under my skin, and
finally, will no longer set fire
to the ones I love.
It’s the dawn of Autumn,
the leaves have begun
their colorful turn.
Smokey chimneys fill the
and the jacket clad people
cover up their summer stains.
This all reminds me
of what is no more,
and I’m now immune.
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Comments about this poem (Autumn by Erik Rittenberry )
- The tour bus of heaven., Harold R Hunt Sr
- Sirens, Alesia Leach
- American red, Harold R Hunt Sr
- The Race is on., Harold R Hunt Sr
- Decree's, Cee Bea
- A letter to a soldier., Harold R Hunt Sr
- 11 Days Before Christmas, Harold R Hunt Sr
- Who Are These Killers, Harold R Hunt Sr
- When I, Harold R Hunt Sr
- That night mother had no egg, Mark Heathcote
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