poem: autumn dance

Just felt like celebrating the Fall. :0)

Autumn Dance—

 

In autumn the maple leaves blush

at one another, then jump their traces

leaving the trees to dance and skip

they disappear discretely when the sun fades

to dusk, to accept the quiet caresses

of the wind.

 

The apple trees, also laid bare of

their leaves, will not be outdone.

 

They sigh and coquet, waving willowy

branches to reveal

a brace of jewels—

ruby apples drip from fingertip

so abundant that some

may be thrown to the supplicant

squirrels.

 

A light buffet

of rosehips

is sampled by the deer

who delicately pirouette

on ballerina feet.

 

A pair of fat raccoons

promenade slowly through

the trees, like an old couple

hard of hearing, loudly

complaining about what

has been laid out

to eat.

 

The music of the crickets and

the frogs goes on til dawn

for the revelers know

that the seasons will change

in the turn of a moon

and all will be laid to rest

in blankets of snow.

 

As if on cue, to remind all revelers

of the season’s brevity

a swirling cloak of black crows

descends upon the fete

calling one another to the feast.

 

Imbibing broken apples’ juice

collecting fruit and seed

finding fallen butterflies

with broken wings

and cold cadaverous

caterpillars

shrouded in cobwebs like lace.

 

The corvid coven rises

remembering the fallen ones

to the angels

lifting them aloft on sable wings

in celebration, in no way stygian

as the dance goes on

and day embraces night.