Autumn Crown Poem by David Burton Richardson

Upon the dusky, Autumn Crown
Where hollows musk and scent are many
Where dank and dreary Red pressed Brown
With dying leaves and rotting Berry
And Beetle Wood moulding Earth
And fuel like Scent of ages past
And must like musty Leaves are many
With wetted Pool of rancid gas
When dark Red deep of many ways
And doomesday dark of end of days
Will not fill the void of Ochre sorrow
And sour taste of all our ways
Is just a shallow shadow
Of our tomorro.