Autumn Before Winter Poem by Jack Buck

football is nearly over
the trees are void of this season thinking now of what's left
and the walk through university campus has become a slow conversation
you can tell by the lapse in Saturday afternoons being put away under a sink
I once said to you that autumn is the best thing to say to you
across a field in the woods the air is cold with the coming idea of long sweeps of snow
reaching us in distance from the lake