by Gay Canongate
Autumn again waltzes in
With percussive rustles by the wind
Trees move like skirts of dancers
Then lift their dancing limbs.
Autumn changes partners
In gala dress; the feast lingers
And the crows prepare.
I feel the crackle in the air.
I hear the woods hum songs of old guitars
Played to the rhythm of the stars.
Autumn hosts this annual ball
We arrive, the last invited guests.
In suit so grand you give your hand;
Like sunlight, in my new red dress,
You spin me in a golden hall that weaves
The season into our new romance.
Autumn leaves, we're left to chance--
To continue that fated dance,
A fiery tarantella, whose heat will last
Beyond the North wind's chilling blast.
© Gay Reiser Cannon All Rights Reserved