Jan Sand (February 2 1926 / USA)
Autumn explodes the maples
Into bloody reds, oranges, banana yellow;
The chromatic screams that gleam
In piebald patches as if a manic clothier
Had strewn his swatches all about
In frenetic fury, intent on matches
To the random patterns in his mind.
This colored agony communicates
The desperation of the vegetation
To exist, persist through the deadly whites
And charcoal blacks in which the winter traps
The dreams of summer flowers,
Luscious life's warm resplendent greens.
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