knee deep in weeds

notes on a simple life

five on friday || and a poem

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
~Albert Camus

Autumn by Mary Hamrick

Autumn is like an old book:
Marred spines turn mean yellow,
staples rust red-orange.

Every stained page is stressed
by a splat of color. Rough-red,
like an old tavern,
we become hungry birds
and prepare for fall.
Shape and shadow are candied citron
as lanterns turn bitter yellow. Autumn
is a red fox, a goblet filled with dark wine,
a hot chilli pepper with smoky eyes.


Hello autumn, you really are my favorite.