Autumn Is A Shopclerk

Poem By Vertella Gadsden

I know autumn is a Shopclerk
With many treasures for sale;
October finds her hard at work
Crying her wares through woods an dale.
She'll trade your stormy summer gale
For a gentle, chameleon rain,
And, if you follow on her trail
She'll barter you a clovered plain.
In the field where cows have lain
She'll buy your song with ripened grain. Night Dark night surrounds all.
He clutchees the day
With smokey hands
And closes her eyes
With whispered songs
amd sighs.

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I Need A Song

To reveal my thoughts
That go round like a hill,
And bestir my love
Now motionless and still,

City Fog

Like lovers' whispered thoughts
Smoky mist clings close against the tree.
Tall, shrouded building stand cloud-soft
And fog-kissed sounds of night are muted low.