Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

The Name—of It—is 'Autumn' - Poem by Emily Dickinson

656

The name—of it—is 'Autumn'—
The hue—of it—is Blood—
An Artery—upon the Hill—
A Vein—along the Road—

Great Globules—in the Alleys—
And Oh, the Shower of Stain—
When Winds—upset the Basin—
And spill the Scarlet Rain—

It sprinkles Bonnets—far below—
It gathers ruddy Pools—
Then—eddies like a Rose—away—
Upon Vermilion Wheels—

Topic(s) of this poem: autumn


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Read poems about / on: autumn, rose, rain, wind



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

Poem Edited: Wednesday, December 3, 2014


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