October

 

Now hath the summer gone and autumn come
And old October hath her raiment donned
And gathered tatters for her ragged dress
From off the once-leafed trees and left them bare,
Uprearing their gaunt skeletons like some
Great underfed black monsters standing there,
Whose bones are glistening with unkind rains
While winter waits beyond the shuddering plains.

Soon autumn with grim winter keeps her bond
To let her colleague rule the wilderness.
And pale October dwindles to her fall,
And on the earth is cast her sombre pall.
Ghostly, dejected, each lone waving bough,
Its springtime splendour all forgotten now,
Writes frantic signs upon the scornful sky
To all unheeding plants that they must die.

October, 1926