Ahhh, Autumn. As a Libra I have always connected with this season, and some of our best memories are of trips and hikes in the fall. I took the photo above of Jordan Pond in Mt. Desert Island, Maine in 2024. The Bubble Mountains – north and south – are in the background. I have written a number of poems about autumn. A couple of them are below. The reference to “ripped out fishes’ gills” in the 2nd poem comes from fishing on the Allegheny River as a boy. If a fish swallowed the hook, this was sometimes the grisly result of trying to remove it.
Who Painted Fall?
these fidgety strokes of gold,
this random layering of rusty streaks
in one leaf – I’m skeptical
of Nature, hiring an artist
this year who seems too much soaked
in the hard cider – he brushes
a crooked line; and his eyes
must be crossed and blurred;
his colors collide and burst –
an explosion of crimson, melting
into auburn tones, with orange dots on top,
thick yellow rays interposed
on vague green gaps
I doubt his work will be remembered;
in fact, last time Nature
hired a drunk
he chose the wrong paint for the canvas;
they found it flaked off,
lying on the floor within a month
An Open Stare at Staghorn Sumac
Fall is a time to be taken back
By nature’s vivid cruelty.
An open stare at staghorn sumac
Will set one’s spine with chills;
The blood red leaves hanging there
Like ripped-out fishes’ gills.
Brian J. Zink Copyright rules apply
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