Autumn

November! When the auburn autumn leaves retard the tinkling brooks of Vallombrosa, and kitchen chimneys draw the old ones closer: when timid fieldmice nestle in the eaves and oaken chests give up our longer sleeves, and finer fabrics cede the game to grosser: we close John Grisham, open Vargas LLosa: Orion rises, and Arcturus grieves. But sometimes there’s a gracious interlude. Though winter waits offstage with all its lines word-perfect, still a kind of summer shines. The breeze feels older now, of muted mood, not so disposed to boast its vital signs, inclined to amble through the golden vines. Sonnet composed: 10 November 2019 New Fall Sonnets Poetry Contest 2019 Sponsored by Emile Pinet