Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 3 — Fall

FALL

Sad-hearted Spirit of the solitudes, Who comest through the ruin-wedded woods!

Gray-gowned in fog, gold-girdled with the gloom Of tawny sunsets; burdened with perfume Of rain-wet uplands, chilly with the mist;

And all the beauty of the fire-kissed Cold forests crimsoning thy indolent way, Odorous of death and drowsy with decay.

I think of thee as seated ’mid the showers Of languid leaves that cover up the flowers,-- The little flower-sisterhoods, whom June Once gave wild sweetness to, as to a tune A singer gives her soul’s wild melody,-- Watching the squirrel store his granary.

Or, ’mid old orchards, I have pictured thee: Thy hair’s profusion blown about thy back;

One lovely shoulder bathed with gypsy black;

Upon thy palm one nestling cheek, and sweet The rosy russets tumbled at thy feet.

Was it a voice lamenting for the flowers?

Or heart-sick bird that sang of happier hours?

A cricket dirging days that soon must die?

Or did the ghost of Summer wander by?