My autumn joy is not far away:
the scent is on the wind,
a chill brings out the quilt at night,
and crops are hurried in.
My maple’s leaves all turn to red
when October nights turn cold,
and my tamaracks the frost will change
from green to smoky gold.
The blackberry leaves will don their red,
and deer their winter blue,
while robins strip the dogwood fruit
and leave a pinkish hue.
All this and more I’ll stop to watch
beneath the harvest moon,
then head for home with one regret:
my autumn ends too soon.