The Third of Autumn

The weather at the moment is very mild. When the Sun comes out the whole day can be transformed. It is the time of year when you can really sense the turning of the seasons.

This is a poem I wrote some time ago to try to express the mood of this time of year.

The Third of Autumn

The first of Autumn is a blue-gray day
A blue-mooded, gray day of dismay
A leaden sulk, a wet face-slap
Trickling 'till dusk and then all the way back.

The second of Autumn is a soft, downy gold
The honey-butter day breathes out and gets old
We're swimming in dapples and big country apples
It smoothes on our faces with unhurried graces

The third of Autumn is a sharp and clear Sun
A bite to our actions, a swallow it's done
We focus our minds and pick up the pace
We harvest the time so the day does not waste
We rustle the papers and pick up our pens

And the three days of Autumn are wed at the end.


Les. P. Cross. 2001.