The Flux of Autumn
All is golden burst, the wind burning The golden trees that plunge Headmost into the burning light and make A sound as fierce as waterfalls -- Excitable air of dying changes, Autumn of the year and of the hight! So I by Shady walking saw old leaves Whirled in the hardy rings and circles plunged, Gyration of the fire-plagued spirits crying! And saw it was a fight to the death this year, The fortress mountains thinning their own shapes, Advancing now from the thickets of the sense, From wayward, tall, exultant, sap-choked green, A hardy brambled green that founders us, into this umbre, sombre earth-dark thing. ~ Jean Garrigue © http://www.ludwigriml.com
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