The Laughter of October

The Laughter of October

Mirth at sunset,
when herons scream
like children
in the shallows,
and up
on the branches,
aurulent shafts of light
play with the shadows
of auburn leaves —

Come to me and stay
for the laughter of October
is upon my face,
a golden glow,
a raging fire that hides
in the Indian summers
of my heart.

by D. G. Vachal. Β© 2012

*** photography by DigitalArt2@Flickr Commons

26 thoughts on “The Laughter of October

  1. As is almost always the case, Dee, my immediate thought is ‘I know that place’. I think (I know) it is a place that leans into the soul. You honor it well, my friend. ~ My love always, Bobbie

  2. beautiful poem, as always the sweet mix of word and emotion. made me think of how quickly autumn colors fade. thank you for the poetry…

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