(26 DEC 1943 / Wyandotte MI)

Autumn Finale

Spare no lament for the maple leaves
that, defying their impending fall,
play blazing gold and scarlet concerts
bright as Christmas brass in marble halls.

How bold their radiant finales resound
deaf to the sweatered ones below
sweeping death away
with their treble scraping rakes -
raising smoldering pyres of the fallen.

Steamy plumes from cocoa mugs
blend with burning oak and maple wisps.
The rakers chant their own sweet airs,
"The colors surprised this year,
didn't think we'd had the rain."

So spare no lament for the maple leaves
who with jubilant anthems
raised beneath the harvest moon
herald their fall with rainbow alleluias.

User Rating: 2,0 / 5 ( 14 votes ) 8

Comments (8)

I think your poem has made maple syrup somewhat funereal - for me. Sweet and sad.
nice and seductive! keep writing!
The first line is bold and gets my attention and is effective in being repested in the last stanza. Once again your adjectives add so much more action and color as well as your musical metapors. A lot of good imagery. 'doggedly cleaning up after death' is memorable. The use of the quotation works very well. Enjoyable to read.
A great poem with a philosophical content! On the first para itself pages of critical appreciation can be written both by students and lovers of English poetry! -Raj Nandy
Truly beautiful whispers captured in the hand of mother nature. Excellent poem, beutifully written. Melvina
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