Thursday, October 18, 2007

The colors of autumn

Gathering Leaves

(an Autumn poem by ~ Robert Frost)

Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.
I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.
But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.
I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed,
And what have I then?
Next to nothing for weight,
And since they grew duller
From contact with earth,
Next to nothing for color.
Next to nothing for use.
But a crop is a crop,
And who's to say where
The harvest shall stop?

Looking out my bedroom window,
this is what I see.

The leaves are almost off the tree across the street. The field of corn to its right is turning a lovely shade of gold as it nears harvesting time. Everything else is still green from the extended summer weather we've been blessed with. It's such a colorful and lovely time of year, a time to slow down the pace of life and prepare for winter to arrive.