To Autumn (Sad When I Think of Missing This)

An ember faintly shines in autumn dark

The pulse of light, the heartbeat of a fire

Emits a ghostlike, ectoplasmic smoke

That dissipates on eddies in the wind.




A fiery ensign branded in the bark

A thousand stars in coal I must admire

They constellate, and laugh at private jokes,

And murmur crackles in drowsy lovers' ears.



It could be coaxed. To woo inspired sparks

With gentle blow I could ignite the flame.

But court too harsh, live cinder could be choked,

Extinguished by too strong of a desire.

When I am spent and doused, may it prove true

That charcoal is a useful object, too.

Photos by Google Image of fall foliage in Connecticut.

Poem by me.