Archives for posts with tag: fall

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“Thanksgiving is the holiday of peace, the celebration of work and the simple life… a true folk-festival that speaks the poetry of the turn of the seasons, the beauty of seedtime and harvest, the ripe product of the year…” 

RAY STANNARD BAKER (1870-1946), one of the first investigative journalists, who also wrote books for children under the pseudonym DAVID GRAYSON

Drawing: “Harvest Moon,” pastel by Jamie Pitts, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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MY AUTUMN LEAVES
by Bruce Weigl

I watch the woods for deer as if I’m armed.
I watch the woods for deer who never come.
I know the hes and shes in autumn
rendezvous in orchards stained with fallen
apples’ scent. I drive my car this way to work
so I may let the crows in corn believe
it’s me their caws are meant to warn,
and snakes who turn in warm and secret caves
 
they know me too. They know the boy
who lives inside me still won’t go away.
The deer are ghosts who slip between the light
through trees, so you may only hear the snap
of branches in the thicket beyond hope.
I watch the woods for deer, as if I’m armed. 

 Photo: Mark P. Jones, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

“My Autumn Leaves” is found in My Unraveling Strangeness, Bruce Weigl’s 2002 poetry collection from Grove Press. Find the book at Amazon.com.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Bruce Weigl entered the Army at eighteen and served in Vietnam for one year, beginning in December 1967. He was awarded the Bronze Star and returned to his hometown of Lorain, Ohio. He earned his BA at Oberlin College, his MA at the University of New Hampshire, and his PhD at the University of Utah. Weigl is the author of more than a dozen books of poetry, including The Unraveling Strangeness (2002), Archeology of the Circle: New and Selected Poems (1999), and After the Others (1999). Weigl has won the Robert Creeley Award, the Lannan Literary Award for Poetry, the Paterson Poetry Prize, the Poet’s Prize from the Academy of American Poets, the Cleveland Arts Prize, and two Pushcart Prizes. Song of Napalm (1998) was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize. He has also been awarded fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and the Yaddo Foundation.

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AUTUMN
by T.E. Hulme 

A touch of cold in the Autumn night—
I walked abroad,
And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge
Like a red-faced farmer.
I did not stop to speak, but nodded,
And round about were the wistful stars
With white faces like town children. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Thomas Ernest Hulme (1883 1917) was an English critic and poet who, through his writings on art, literature and politics, had a notable influence upon modernism. (Read more at wikipedia.org.)

PHOTO: “Red Moon Rising” by Flavio (July 7, 2009), ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Photographer’s note:  The orange-red colors that the moon sometimes take on are caused by particles in the Earth’s atmosphere. So, this is an interesting and nice-looking result of pollution. When the sunlight reflected by the moon passes through the Earth’s atmosphere, it is scattered by atmospheric particles. Blue light is scattered more than red light, which passes straight through. Incidentally, this is why the sky is blue.
When the moon is close to the horizon, the light must travel through a maximum amount of atmosphere to get to your eyes — blue light gets scattered, while red light goes straight, making the object look redder. In other words, the moon sometimes (and the sun every day) tends to look orange or red when it is rising or setting.

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THE WINDS OF FALL
by Matsuo Basho

The winds of fall
are blowing, yet how green
the chestnut burr. 

PHOTO: Chestnut burr

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AUTUMN HAIKU
by Matsuo Basho

banana plant in autumn storm
rain drips into tub
hearing the night

ILLUSTRATION: “Banana Leaf,” photograph by Lyle Hatch. Prints available at fineartamerica.com.

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NOVEMBER HAIKU
by Jack Kerouac

Leaves falling everywhere
in the November
Midnight moonshine

PHOTO: “Autumn leaves in the moonlight” by Ray Christie, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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NOVEMBER
Poem by Elizabeth Coatsworth

November comes
And November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows.

With night coming early,
And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket
And frost by the gate.

The fires burn
And the kettles sing,
And earth sinks to rest
Until next spring.

PAINTING: “November Landscape” by Charles Eaton (185701937)

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AUTUMN OFFERING

by Judith A. Lawrence

I shall be Autumn

this Halloween,

with leaf draped skirt,

and folds of

boysenberry velvet wine

flowing to the ground.


 
Brown stained face,

eyes rimmed in gold,

nails dripping sunset,

a crown of twigs

to cover my head.


 
You may gather from me

the spring of my youth,

my summer of maturity,

and hold onto with me,

the solace of these days

of remembering

before the frost.

ILLUSTRATION: “Gothic Arch, Autumn Glow” by Linda Boston, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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AUTUMN FIRES
by Robert Louis Stevenson

In the other gardens
  And all up the vale,
From the autumn bonfires
  See the smoke trail!
 
Pleasant summer over
  And all the summer flowers,
The red fire blazes,
  The gray smoke towers.
 
Sing a song of seasons!
  Something bright in all!
Flowers in the summer,
  Fires in the fall!
***
“Autumn Fire” appears in Robert Louis Stevenson‘s 1885 collection A Child’s Garden of Verses.

ILLUSTRATION: “Burning Leaves” by Gigistar, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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OCTOBER
by Robert Frost

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.
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Watercolor by Laura Trevey. Prints available at brika.com.