You gave me autumn in an envelope.
The rich light burned within my bones like gold.
It sent the sun down with a vivid shout.
The air pulsated with its after glow.
I felt the mood of old November roofs,
Redolent with their Appalachian fires.
The dusk lasts long in West Virginia, Friend.
Its fall cannot be heard by human ears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.