Keats saw autumn, he's witness
to careless presence on granary floor
the hair lifted, dian skies
were poetic even then
the word of four letters
two vowels and two consonants
has pricked emotions
even without grammatical punctuation
I cannot find or may find after penance
a thing personified like a leaf
to reap yellow or to fade in season
but glorified words are there to haunt
always with new mother from varying pens
moisturized essence in Teasdale's quatrains
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