Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AUTUMN, by                    
First Line: On a far hill
Last Line: For a last caress.
Subject(s): Autumn; Seasons; Fall


On a far hill
I brood,
Weeping, tear bound,
Hesitant, rude.
I am moody
In a gold gown,
Tinkling in scarlet
Up and down.
I am gaudy
Whose heart must break;
All is given me --
Nothing I take.
I who am harvest
Am bereft;
Pride and glory,
These are left.
I am bouquet.
Of the gone before;
I am color,
Nothing more.
I am parade,
A flash of light
Crimsoning once
Before death, the night.
I am fillip
At summer's close;
My rains weep
All seasons' woes.
I am bitterness
In a gay dress --
Crying out forever
For a last caress.





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