Cold nights
have kindled fires in the leaves
and the woodlands smolder
like a burning poem.
Fractals of frost sparkle
on the unexpected silence,
and thoughts turn – like leaves –
through ripened shades of memory
now the months begin to age.
Short days,
and the morning star falls
lower in the sky, lingering
like a doubt, but not for long –
as restless the white swans fly.
Autumn is stating
in no uncertain terms that
under the new management
things will be different.
Richard West” was Regents’ Professor of Classics in a large public university and has published numerous books and many articles, as well as poetry in more than thirty literary journals. He now lives in the Desert Southwest, where he enjoys outdoor activities, learning to cook, and attempting to add flavor to his poems.