I wrote this poem many years ago for a magazine called New Love Stories, now defunct. They didn't buy it. That’s okay. It’s romantic in a different kind of way than they wanted, I guess. But we woke up this morning to dreary skies and rain which brought this poem to mind. Perhaps you’ll find some echo in your own heart as autumn creeps in on little cat feet.
Autumn at the Gate
By Susan Sundwall
She came upon the garden late,
and lingered there beside the gate,
as fallen leaves went whirling round
with rustling crunch upon the ground.
The rising moon, the hissing breeze
had found the bare bones of the trees
and pressed upon her heart, at last,
that winter now would come on fast.
Mid wistful thoughts of summer days,
the lovely, golden autumn haze
seemed as a lover’s kiss, and then
she left the gate for home again.
Photo: Last year's garden in October with our red barn in the distance. Thanks for reading.