Elegy On An Autumn Day
Change comes sometime late August,
a mellow presence to the day;
a gentle sun, supplying friendship,
joins me walking in the lane.
Between defiant borders, autumn's late bloomers--
proud yellow, maroon, and red--
Queen Anne's lace adds frilly softness against weed hardness,
a smiling feminine face.
The gardens yield their richness,
spilling ripe bounty from over laden arms.
Peaceful is the attitude autumn offers;
a tender sadness shapes the edge
where silent stone markers gently gather
beneath trees' reverent, flame-haloed heads.
The year is slowly dying . . .
not fast gone like these quietly remembered,
my beloved dead.
Copyright, September 10, 2014
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