AUTUMN SKETCH
by Jane Tyson Clement
The wind in the dry standing corn is the sound of many waters.(This is the season for remembering,for gathering in memories like flowers before frost.)Over the mountains the dark clouds of birds wheel and vanishand the air stills slowly with the beat of wingsin the light no longer.(This is the season for what is over and done with, finished.Hold no promise in your hands. Look to the earth no longer,nor to the sky, for the snows gather.)The wind through the standing corn is the murmur of many waters;look for frost on the hillside and milkweed podssmoking along the roads.(This is the season for remembering;blow on your hearth’s embers, and ask for a little whileno new springing.)
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