The wisp of wind that makes the leaves go dance
and play above the browning grass, cannot
but stir awake my eyes and ears from trance
to sound and sight more fine than can  be bought.
Where sun and earth will kiss amidst the trees
and light the fronds in fire of red and brown
whose hues won’t wax or wane if blown to sea,
that force my lungs to gasp as if they drown.
The gentle, warm deep breaths of torrid fall
awakens happy feelings of rebirth—
satisfaction is guaranteed to all
if they but look upon the dimming earth.
To bask in splendor shall never get old
it will arrive again, it is foretold

 

Aaron Berkowitz is a freelance writer/editor who also teaches creative writing to middle school and high school students. Although not typically a “metered poetry” kind of guy, he enjoys the patterns and rhythms of language that meter can create and relished the opportunity to dust off his scansion skills to write this poem. He is also co-founder and editor-in-chief of the Jewish Literary Journal, a monthly online publication of creative writing.

Featured Image: “Autumn on the River” by Gottlieb Daniel Paul Weber (1823-1916)

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