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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

EARLY AUTUMN, by                    
First Line: Now is the season of slow days
Last Line: Dear god! Must autumn come again?
Subject(s): Autumn; Seasons; Fall


Now is the season of slow days
Returned with woodsmoke curling high;
The melancholy time of year
When wild geese give their lonely cry.

The ghost of you comes back to me,
And chirps the cricket mournfully
At night beneath my cold grey stone.
Must it always be thus for me?

Grey are the ashes on my hearth;
Grey will my thoughts be evermore
Since you are gone and I am left
To see charred wings upon the floor.

Dead ashes in my heart -- and dead
The leaves that fall upon the rain!
Dark memories surge and stare at me,
Dear God! must autumn come again?





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