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Sunday, 27 November 2022

Autumn Song


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Autumn Song

 

Autumn has emptied heaven of it's birds

And stretched a silence on the loud sea.

Gone is the last leaf and the last flower,

And all the gauds of summer are undone.

 

          Winter cuts off our feet. But we must dance

          In Spring's conspiracy of circumstance:

          Swallows sickling air's invisible grass

          Sketch hieroglyphs that translate at a glance

          To greenest meaning.

                                               The sun, love's looking glass,

           Summer, that stokes the furnace of the bee,

           Honey all nature in one grand romance --

           The ambience of consanguinity

           Hurls its huge myth around the world at me.

 

But now the sports and sunny shows are done.

A deadflower clock ticks out a year of seed.

The season's losses hide the summer road,

And crows talk hoarsely in the frozen wood.

 

Thomas McGrath 

 

"The season's losses hide the summer road..."

That strikes me. 

If I'm reading right, Summer is the enduring season. Summer the constant.

Maybe I'm not reading right, but if I am - 

there's pause for thought.

Our losses only briefly fill our view. Leaves are light, they blow away.

Are losses impermanent like leaves?

 

 

  

 



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