Autumn Song by Reva Griffith

Of trees lining the streets,
And standing in yards and parks,
Like Joseph, clad in coats of many colors,
Soft yellows, somber russets, brilliant reds
of every shade and hue.
Each one in its own place standing proud, serene,
As if saying, "Look at me. I am the fairest of us all."

Of soft breezes,
Whispering of departing summer
And winter to come.
Coaxing the leaves from the trees,
Carrying them down, down,
To nestle with the others,
Having done their part In the endless process
Of life.

Of the remnants of summer,
Hardy blooms, not yet bitten by the frost,
Peeking out from cozy nooks,
And vegetable plants in sheltered spots
Stir fading memories of summer feasts.
And everywhere, people gather what is left,
Rake the leaves in huge piles,
Reluctant to let summer go.

And over it all the benevolent sun,
Sinks lower in the autumn sky,
A harbinger of cold and cloudy
Days to come.

To be followed by the warm breath of spring
And a time of growth once more.

—Reva Griffith
October, 1999