Poem Of Autumn... Poem by John Tansey

Poem of Autumn

It is getting dark…
I feel the cold;
The snuffing out of the light
By a prim butler in long tails
And a white glove.
A long, wooden pole
With a burnished cup, that chokes the last flame
Of Summer,
from a gas-lit lamp.

It is night now,

All souls to their bedposts,
Time for most to go to sleep,
And some, to quietly weep in their pillows.



John Tansey 9.20.7


Copyright ©2007 John Thomas Tansey