Autumn comes.
As one door closes,
One door opens to another time,
A crystal time of monoshades,
of black and white.
After green, after yellow,
After orange, after red,
After freedom, after warmth.
When Nature comes to rest,
We are left to make our way
To warmth and color and comfort.
But nothing is forever,
So we wait.
I read this poem first as it is Autumn where I live. Its a lovely time of year, you are right 'one door opens to another time'. It is also the time we should reap the fruit of our labours and store them up for winter time. We don't do that anymore, we just eat until we have had our fill, and then wonder why everything falls down.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I enjoyed reading your poems, Fred. I like Autumn the most,