Autumn
     

    I am driving.
    Sun cracks the gray dawn
    across the Taconic valley
    to my right, paralleling the Thruway.

    Low mist reflects silver,
    a lake in the distance.
    So-orange light grows
    and the valley widens.

    Orange, green, this new autumn,
    fall, fall, drop, rest, renew.
    Leaves turn through cooling air,
    consider coming leaf-rain.

    Snow is waiting,
    spring is waiting,
    summer sleeps,
    I trust the cycle to continue after I join the orange loamy ground.

    10/2/98

    Daniel Friedman's Poetry & Short Stories
    Daniel Friedman's bio

    InspectAPedia tolerates no conflicts of interest. We have no relationship with advertisers, products, or services discussed at this website. InspectAPedia tolerates no conflicts of interest. We have no relationship with advertisers, products, or services discussed at this website.

    This article series contains poetry, prose, short fiction by Daniel Friedman. For more of Daniel's writing see this link: Daniel Friedman's Poetry & Short Stories. Any relationship of text in these materials to persons living or dead is probably not a coincidence.

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