Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Autumn Leaves Without Fruit, Twice Dead

Anthrax Scare in Fall 2001

Autumn in New York after the fall.
Wind blows with a sigh, with a shiver,
Through the dust and ash and brittle leaf
At the end of a broken summer.

Autumn in our land before the flu
And already a dusting of white,
Already a chilling of the blood
Brooding malevolent malady.

Autumn days of our despondency
Usher in our winter of discord,
When the shadow spooks of All Saint’s Eve
May bring less fear than a Christmas card.

Autumn in our time like all time by
Bodes one more long uncertain winter
Of desolateness and bereavement;

Yet expectations of spring leafing.

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