Autumnus You Were Named

Autumnus you were named by the Ancient of Days.
Your smell is of earth in hospice.
Flesh and bones decay to promise renewal.
Your cold breath strips leaves whose time has come
and branches groan, It is time.  It is time.

You paint the earth with a pallet of blood tones.
You prepare the canvas for the white cloak of Winter.
We celebrate you with feasts and goblins.
You must forgive our childish prattle
and tolerate our simpleton gestures.

We call you Fall out of our ignorance.
Your pulse promises resurrection.
It is time.

4 thoughts on “Autumnus You Were Named

  1. Oh I love this! So lovely, and captures the essence of autumn so well! I love the pictures too. 🙂

    And between you, me, and the tree, I don’t like it when people call it “fall” either. 😉

    • When I grew up in Hawaii, autumn seemed so wonderful. When we moved to Texas, “fall” seemed crass. It will always be autumn to me. Thank you for you shared comment!

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