Autumn at the Gate

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.