Sidney Beck Poet Quatrain

After the Autumn Storm

AFTER THE AUTUMN  STORM 
 
The warm rays of the emerging sun
Escape from the clouds like newborn kittens,
Only to be gathered up quickly again
And by their mother clouds hidden;
 
And the day seems destined to  fade
Before it has had a chance to bring
Last sustenance to the longing  glade. 
She sees me and, with a smile like the morning,
 
Brushes aside the failing 
Of Indian summer’s last effort: 
And I know the hope of spring  - 
Like the bear and the meadow wort, 
 
Sleeping now and in  wait  -
Instinctively knowing that all is well, 
That by and by the clouds will abate, 
And that time will tell.

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