Tag: Autumn

November the Penultimate


November the Penultimate

Never was a month so motley in its days:
November, penultimate month
of a year that frames the seasons,
when leaves in early days
turn to brightest garnet,
blazing topaz,
illuminated gold —

the latter days arrive
with the fire of the winds,
and the burning leaves take the plunge
from infernal towers of the branches
to the burial grounds of a gun-
metal, brumal earth —

November, November,
calves ache from the marathon,
hearts pound the door
to another December

when holly berries huddle upon the petals
of the soft-spoken snow,
and the fallen leaves breathe again
at the sound of the carols of the children,
the children rejoicing.

D. G. Vachal © 2013

Photography Credit: November’s Decline by Bucaneve

Colors of Autumn

Colors of Autumn

The turning of colors
like the turning of tides,
the waxing moon’s gradient shift
to fullness
in pearlescent light,
the chilly air’s osmosis
imperceptible,
permeating a blanket of warmth —

emeralds turn to topaz,
malachite to rubies,
nightingale songs grow faint
as in a moment’s dream —

I was here
many times before
and once again I am

swept in this lunatic array
of colors:
salmon and salamander,
citrine and vermilion,
french horns and trombone,
a cacophony of shades and tinctures —

these moments soon will pass
like many times before
yet for a little while
let me wrap myself
in the colors of Autumn:
Joseph’s coat
of many colors.

D. G. Vachal © 2025

Author’s note: This poem was inspired by a passage from “The Strings are False” by the Irish poet Louis MacNeice. 

“The train for Jersey City was called the Blue Comet and I sat in a luxury Pullman car that was all windows and beyond the windows a reel of autumn madness, the maple trees gone drunk with colour. Tigers and wine, pimento, copper, coral, the bells of St. Clement’s jangling and fanfaronade of trumpets, fireworks out of the ground, Giorgione, Veronese, the tents of all the Sultans. People had told me about the American Fall, and this was it.”  (“Louis MacNeice, The Strings are False, Faber and Faber Limited, Great Britain, 1965, p. 30.”)

Image by: chensiyuan, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0&gt;, via Wikimedia Commons

Autumn in the Gloaming

Autumn
in the long platinum
light of the gloaming
when pearls of time arrive and depart
with the wind-swept leaves —

I feel your nearness
your gazing eyes are falling stars
from the ebony sky,
your tender voice rustles the fern fronds
as you call my name —

tell me,
have I spoken your name with tenderness
at suspended moments
before the turning of a hundred seasons —

beyond the ocean tides of forgetting
have you come back to remember
what I have already forgotten —

Autumn in the gloaming,
mottled colors
cloaked in the deep purple mist
of my remembrances.

D. G. Vachal © 2024

Image by James Wheeler @ Pixabay

Laughter of October

Laughter of October

Mirth at sunset:
herons scream like children
in the shallows,
golden shafts of light
play with the shadows
of auburn leaves —

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

D. G. Vachal © 2012, 2014

Image by digital2 @flickr commons

October Cold Comes: Love Haiku 22:24

22

time raged like a storm
thoughts of you erased by winds,
drowned by high waters

23

leaves blush, turn crimson
others in golden splendor
you behold my face

24

October cold comes
mauve chrysanthemums blossom
warm my hand with yours


D. G. Vachal © 2024

Image by ignartonosbg @pixabay