It pierces through our pampered summer skin
A sudden chill spilling against the earth
Reality consumes youth’s guileless grin
As teasing zephyrs harness languid mirth
The landscape tugs the hemline of the deeps
Across the molten autumnal array
Far on the slope the towering maple weeps
Into the sepulcher of life’s decay
The circuit of its fleeting gasp is stark
Against the canvases of gath’ring dark
The fret-works of fall’s naked branches reach
In unadorned humility and praise
Toward their Maker’s throne; the empty beach
Echoes the laughter of fair sun-drenched days
As leaf by burnished leaf the autumn drips
Into a vault of summers predeceased
Realization in keen kindness grips
The heart in melodies of love released
And yet as seasons pass beneath earth’s sun
Love’s hope and happiness are never done
When the last leaf drifts soundless to our feet
And silence threads the passages of time
We pause; entranced within the bittersweet
Of autumn’s sweet and solemn pantomime
The darling rose, the crimson anemone
Bleeds back into the dust from whence it sprung
And in the haunting hollow undertone
Of early night we hear a still-song flung
Into the void of autumn’s barrenness
Beneath the Hand of hope’s tender caress
© Janet Martin
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