October

By Elsie E. Barrett

You have come again! October,
With your harvest at our feet;
Red the cheek of peach and apple
Dripping wet with honey sweet;
Gorgeous colors you are splashing
Down the lanes of rich perfumes,
All your efforts crowned with beauty,
Fields of wheat and garden blooms.
Mother Earth has reached perfection!
Left her treasures in your care,
Knowing well your joy in harvest
Which your sister month will share.
Though your brightness soon must wither
You foretell with pulsing breath
As your beauties all in passing
Voice the cry, “There is no death.”

(1932)