Fall Song

Another year gone, leaving everywhere
its rich spiced residues: vines, leaves,

the uneaten fruits crumbling damply
in the shadows, unmattering back

from the particular island
of this summer, this NOW, that now is nowhere

except underfoot, moldering
in that black subterranean castle

of unobservable mysteries - roots and sealed seeds
and the wanderings of water. This

I try to remember when time's measure
painfully chafes, for instance when autumn

flares out at the last, boisterous and like us longing
to stay - how everything lives, shifting

from one bright vision to another, forever
in these momentary pastures.

by Mary Oliver

Other poems of OLIVER (91)

Comments (3)

Sad but beautiful! Reminds all of how things once were. Nice.
a cement means a modern living and a meadow is the old way. Great meaning Please try to comment on my simple poems. Thank you so much
Beautiful Haiku.....melonchony in a sad sort of way, however, that is just the way I felt when I read it, for I've seen so many changes in my life, and I'd rather see the beautiful meadow, than the cement! Warm Poetic Love Lovingcritters ConSue