Two Autumn Poems
Michaelmas Daisies
Lilac and blue, the daisies nurse now
Quiet suns in a centre of petals.
They are delicate — fading water-colours
Painted on a bronze of weeds.
A trance of pale ladies
In an autumn of declines.
Mists, mists, be mourners
For their services.
October 1972
i.
Midwived by mists – seasonal –
You in your birth bring
October’s glory — cold fire
In a flame of hands.
Still poised into peace
Lives on my Golden Age;
Under your final moon
The balance — stays:
The Hunter yet to whirl the wind
And run the tumbled wood with hounds.
ii.
The balance, for an instant, holds,
The Hunter yet to whirl the wind and run
The tumbled wood with hounds.
Still the poise of peace
Living its Golden Age
Under a final moon.
Midwived by mists October bears
Cold fire in a flame of hands,
Silently — burning — first leaves fall.
© The Estate of Ronald M. White
No comments yet.
