"Who Love the Autumn"

They who love the autumn
Scuff with wayward feet
Where the yellowed windrows
By ash and elm are laid,
Savoring the incense
From fires along the street,
Pausing in the darkness
To watch the embers fade.

Windows dressed in scarlet, russet,
Gold, and brown;
Bough and sheaf and pumpkin,
Set for Halloween.
Bring the season's color
To invest the town,
Poor in Autumn's substance
With something of her sheen.

Place has no distinction,
Leaves against the curb,
Rain on bleaching stubble,
Avenues grown bare—
All possess enchantment to charm
And yet disturb.
They who love the autumn
Find it everywhere!

Dana Kneeland Akers