166. The Word “Autumn”
37 around the bend
and the word “autumn” all around
seems there is all about it
something to think about
wet branches as a memory
of what you saw as rain
driving among the signs of falling
weather and how it continues among us
a cloud above bluesky’d mountain
and what you see above beside or besides it
your own requirement to look at
whatever she had looked at before you
in front of you the presence and
the quality of light resembling “and”
these are the falls you remember
of water of leaves of light are each one
an appearance of water falling white
through an assumption of darkening night
taking a drink of water
from a cold wet hand of yours
as are you so am I in autumn
as I am in the sense of falling
ah the earth it wants you
to remember to say “ah”
hills turn to amber without
even the glow of amber sunlight
even death resembles an aye
aye the simple state of death
almost purple toward evening
in a world almost leafless
after the coupling of summer
the uncoupling of fall comes after
all shoes shuffle through these leaves
that is all the noise we want of fall
the word “autumn” arrives
at the start of autumn
the slate water alters the color
of the sky that alters the color of day
lay a white cheek against the stone
feel the cold against that pale skin
the soft blue sky again
her soft blue eyes again
you see there is no art in it
you say, “The sea art not like this”
ask for plenty in a time of want
and there will be nothing to ask for
aching for the colors of fall
for the empty aching crotch of the maple
every season is a vague acquaintance
an acquaintance we must learn the name of again
you could add to the world’s words
a word for autumn to add to yourself
she has such anxious eyes
that you are anxious to know her
nothing affects the shape of fall more
than whatever affects the way you see it
even empty fall is ample enough
to fill you with the ample delights of living
there is you are sure an acrid scent
to the leaves rotting acrid beneath your feet
some words are empty and alone
invisible to us whether in sentences or alone
an array of leaves
an array of light
arrow to the heart in the color of autumn
if there has to be a target there must be an arrow
moving athwart Under Mountain Road and over
thus moving athwart the weight of autumn
when a season is an act of life
you must act as if trained for it
is there anything you can see
when anything is always before you?
you have no answer for autumn
every answer was used up for spring
and the word “autumn” all around
seems there is all about it
something to think about
wet branches as a memory
of what you saw as rain
driving among the signs of falling
weather and how it continues among us
a cloud above bluesky’d mountain
and what you see above beside or besides it
your own requirement to look at
whatever she had looked at before you
in front of you the presence and
the quality of light resembling “and”
these are the falls you remember
of water of leaves of light are each one
an appearance of water falling white
through an assumption of darkening night
taking a drink of water
from a cold wet hand of yours
as are you so am I in autumn
as I am in the sense of falling
ah the earth it wants you
to remember to say “ah”
hills turn to amber without
even the glow of amber sunlight
even death resembles an aye
aye the simple state of death
almost purple toward evening
in a world almost leafless
after the coupling of summer
the uncoupling of fall comes after
all shoes shuffle through these leaves
that is all the noise we want of fall
the word “autumn” arrives
at the start of autumn
the slate water alters the color
of the sky that alters the color of day
lay a white cheek against the stone
feel the cold against that pale skin
the soft blue sky again
her soft blue eyes again
you see there is no art in it
you say, “The sea art not like this”
ask for plenty in a time of want
and there will be nothing to ask for
aching for the colors of fall
for the empty aching crotch of the maple
every season is a vague acquaintance
an acquaintance we must learn the name of again
you could add to the world’s words
a word for autumn to add to yourself
she has such anxious eyes
that you are anxious to know her
nothing affects the shape of fall more
than whatever affects the way you see it
even empty fall is ample enough
to fill you with the ample delights of living
there is you are sure an acrid scent
to the leaves rotting acrid beneath your feet
some words are empty and alone
invisible to us whether in sentences or alone
an array of leaves
an array of light
arrow to the heart in the color of autumn
if there has to be a target there must be an arrow
moving athwart Under Mountain Road and over
thus moving athwart the weight of autumn
when a season is an act of life
you must act as if trained for it
is there anything you can see
when anything is always before you?
you have no answer for autumn
every answer was used up for spring
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