Autumnal Poem by Richard Blanch

Autumnal



When there are a thousand honey rhymes
Flying in the air
I am in birchland and in autumn
Being lashed by poems
Made by trees
And tree-limbs in my mind
Cover the moon in the wind-whirling nights
With branch writing
Lettering their sleep
And my airborne headiness:
Brisk times coming
Stones to wash gleaming
Seeds to sing lullabies to
And deaths to smell
As they turn sleepily into life.

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