A Year of Creating Dangerously, Day 300: Autumn the Compassionate

Autumn sun slices

Photo by Ron Kok, Ottawa, 2017

It may be the height of hubris for me, after a few days of posting poems about autumn by incredible poets, to post a poem I wrote in this space today, also about autumn.

Then again, maybe it is more so the height of hubris to use the word hubris in your blog.

At any rate, below is my stab at putting words to the season that I’ve come to love more than any other:

Autumn the Compassionate

Autumn sun cuts and slices across
My face, my chest, my arms
It cuts across but leaves no harm

Instead it consoles, comforts
Warm like a blanket wrapped
Over me against the chill

Autumn wind is alive and strong
Washing summer away
Preparing me for cold to come

It speaks with both warmth
And foreboding on its lips
“Winter is coming, y’all”

Autumn beauty knows no boundaries
It is no respecter of persons
To rich, poor alike it blesses

Carpeting our feet, painting a canopy
With colors of fire providing
Warmth without the heat

Autumn is the season that
Eases us forward to cold
In its polite and gentle way

Of all seasons this one of color
Contains the most compassion
Tinged in red, yellow and orange

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