Sunday, November 22, 2009
Allegory of Autumn and Suffering
A breath upon the frozen pond,
An icicle of red
That shines within the torching sun
And shows his golden head.
This---looking out upon the green
That's turned to crimson shade:
This---gazing out upon the scene
That Grand Creation made.
A girl upon the rattling tracks
Whose eye would gladly see
The beauty of the setting sun
If down would bend the trees
And gone would be the turning mist
And lost, the settled fog---
If only rains left fewer stains
And whirlwinds, fewer flogs:
Then she could see the burning sun
Across the twisted log,
And great would be the epitaph
Of love, writ in the smog.