A harder love

A harder love than frost

I love the autumn:
The smell of leaves’ new colors,
The golds, yellows, reds,
The play of warmth and coolness,
The wonder of birds in flight.

You are my autumn.
You are bright leaves on green grass.
You are sharp, fresh air.
You’re the pleasure of motion,
Bringing all these together.

You are that bright flame
Shielded tenderly from wind,
Touched to those bright leaves.
In the cool of the evening,
You are that strong, warm burning.

They say it’s an end,
A cold end to color, but
I love the autumn.
I love it knowing the cold,
Knowing what the fire is.

Reaching into flame,
Brown leaves of skin blow away
In cool autumn light.
Knowing, I reach out my hand.
Autumn – take it if you will.


(Another poem from the archives. Maybe I’ll tell you about it when you’re older.)

About Confanity

I love the written word more than anything else I've had the chance to work with. I'm back in the States from Japan for grad school, but still studying Japanese with the hope of becoming a translator -- or writer, or even teacher -- as long as it's something language-related.
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