Tag Archives: Autumn

field & sky

bewildered scarecrow
he must want to cry
in a faded golden field
beneath an auburn sun
wilted scarecrow
she must wonder why
in a hazy neon field
beneath a winter moon

looking for the answer
sweltering sky
mindfill of shadow
a mind full of shadow
ever mindful of shadow

bewildered scarecrow
she must want to sigh
in a jaded golden field
beneath a forlorn sun
jilted scarecrow
he must thunder why
in a crazy neon field
beneath a splinter moon

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2009

GUEST POST // snap by Robert Greig

summer is over
when snapdragons finally
give up the ghost…

by ROBERT GREIG
© All rights reserved 2025

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // A Vagabond Song. by Bliss Carman (William)

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood–
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

by BLISS CARMAN (WILLIAM) (1861-1929)
Public Domain Poetry

SIX WORD STORY #73 // Autumn…

…faded the leaves of living memory.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // A Crushed Leaf by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

An hour ago when the wind blew high
At my lady’s window a red leaf beat.
Then dropped at her door, where, passing by,
She carelessly trod it under her feet.

I have taken it out of the dust and dirt,
With a tender pity but half defined.
Ah! poor bruised leaf, with your stain and hurt,
‘A fellow-feeling doth make us kind.’

On winds of passion my heart was blown,
Like an autumn leaf one hapless day.
At my lady’s window with tap and moan
It burned and fluttered its life away.

Bright with the blood of its wasting tide
It glowed in the sun of her laughing eyes.
What cared she though a stray heart died –
What to her were its sobs and sighs.

The winds of passion were spent at last,
And my heart like the leaf in her pathway lay;
And under her slender foot as she passed,
My lady she trod it and went her way.

So I picked the leaf from its dusty place,
With a tender pity -too well defined.
And I laid it here in this velvet case,
Ah! a fellow-feeling doth make us kind.

by ELLA WHEELER WILCOX (1855-1919)
Public Domain Poetry