Thursday, October 19, 2017

Thursday Poem - Song of Autumn

In the deep fall
don't you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the
nothingness of air and the endless
freshets of wind? And don't you think
the trees themselves, especially those with mossy,
warm caves, begin to think

of the birds that will come — six, a dozen — to sleep
inside their bodies? And don't you hear
the goldenrod whispering goodbye,
the everlasting being crowned with the first
tuffets of snow? The pond
vanishes, and the white field over which
the fox runs so quickly brings out
its blue shadows. And the wind pumps its
bellows. And at evening especially,
the piled firewood shifts a little,
longing to be on its way.

Mary Oliver


christinalfrutiger said...

Love this and what an exquisite photo!

kerrdelune said...

Christina, a beech grove in late autumn is simply gorgeous!

christinalfrutiger said...

And you have captured it so beautifully!

My Journey To Mindfulness said...

one of my favorite poems and writers
your pictures

UplayOnline said...

Love this and what an exquisite photo!

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