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  • Writer's pictureC. Jensen
    • Dec 15, 2019
    • 1 min read

Autumn poem

We are at that holy point of autumn

when the golden world shatters and

we are left with fragile,

russet death,

a flame’s last flicker.


Pick up the pieces

joyfully.


You have no right to be joyful

in this autumn of the world!


I have nothing but joy,

To face the oncoming winter.


“You’re so vain”

set to a sentimental vignette

of various plants and critters

going about

their interconnected business.


I bet you think this song

is about you.


-October 2019

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