Autumn Poems



The matronly hill

Has dressed in a patterned muumuu

Of scarlet maple, golden ash, and copper oak.

The lake at her feet

Reflects her gaudy garment.

What a thrill to wear whatever one pleases

In the autumn of life.



Gray sky, gray streets, gray trees, gray faces, gray overcoats

Punctuated with blood red plastic poppies.

An odd note of cheer

In the grimmest month of the year.



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The blogger is a dilettante writer, empty nester, anxious environmentalist, and registered nurse living in Stratford, Ontario, Canada. The scribbles here in are her thoughts on building a healthy, not boring, post-Christian, post-neo-liberal Just Society. And also some other stuff… just for fun.

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