Thursday, October 16, 2014


by Emily Dickinson
The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.

"Autumn teaches us that fruition is also death; that ripeness is a form of decay.
The willows, having stood for so long near water, begin to rust.
Leaves are verbs that conjugate the seasons."
-from "The Solace of Open Spaces" by Gretel Ehrlich-

Autumn Waltz


Peggy said...

A trilogy! Absolutely wonderful, thank you. I closed my eyes for one minute and forty eight seconds too, that was really nice. xoxo

grace Forrest~Maestas said...

am not fond of the emotionalism of Autumn.

Cathie said...

I loved this post, these thoughts on Autumn.
I must check out this author's, Open Spaces.
It's now on my luster. Thanks Michelle.

Kim Andersen said...

Lovely Emily. She could explain it as no one else can. I, too, will look for the Open Spaces book - it sounds intriguing.

Nancy said...