Notes About The Poem

image from mowerliving.com

*A maple key is the winged seed of a maple tree, also known as a samara. These seeds are typically shaped like a helicopter blade and spin as they fall, helping them to disperse over a wider area. (Source: Wikipedia.com)

Autumn at the Front Door

This morning I found Autumn
standing at the front door 
carrying a suitcase made 
entirely of leaves.

Not knocking.
Simply waiting, 
as old friends do, 
certain of welcome.

A leaf rested on the welcome mat, 
its stem carefully aligned 
like a calling card.

The visitor carried no fanfare of color, no whirlwind of leaves.

Instead,
there came the scent of apples 
stored in darkness,
woodsmoke rising 
from unseen chimneys,
and the faint chill of distant hills 
already surrendering their green.

When I opened the door, Autumn smiled.
A breeze entered first.
Then a skein of geese 
stitched itself across the morning sky.

The porch asters brightened.
An acorn appeared on the top step.
Somewhere beyond the yard, 
a field released its last crickets.

By afternoon, 
the visitor had settled quietly into the house.
I found traces everywhere:
a russet leaf beside the staircase,
a yellow feather on the windowsill,
a *maple key resting by the sugar bowl.

By evening, 
shadows lengthened; 
Autumn opened a suitcase
woven entirely of leaves.

From it spilled
the fragrance of September rain,
the gold of harvested fields,
the silver cry of migrating birds,
the first frost waiting 
just beyond the horizon.

Last of all,
the season withdrew a small ledger
and began, carefully,
to account for the year~
not its triumphs,
not its failures,

only the moments worth keeping~
the rose that flowered longer than expected,
a friend's laughter carried across a garden,
the moon above the porch roof,
the ordinary mornings that proved, 
without announcement, 
to be precious.

Long after sunset,
Autumn remained beside the front door,
patiently gathering 
the scattered leaves of memory
before winter arrived.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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