The hawthorn, and the Rowan berries
are full on winter arms,
like summers vine, with color wine
to feed and cheer the cold gathering
of Autumn end.
Leaves, a whitened pallor,
others faded blush, wilt,
in early evening shades.
The roots are resting,
the moon early to work,
the berries full of food
for birds and color hope
into the earthy hedged fields,
and slumbered garden,
gives a lustred glowing light,
the door to winters cave
And nature sleeps,
beneath a winter colored duvet.
Simply ours to wait and see
from Autumns End the light.
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