Credit: Pexels
Autumn the season of poetry
Day in Autumn
By Erik Maria Rilke
After the summer's yield, Lord, it is time
to let your shadow lengthen on the sundialsand in the pastures let the rough winds fly.
As for the final fruits, coax them to roundness.
Direct on them two days of warmer light
to hale them golden toward their term, and harry
the last few drops of sweetness through the wine.
Whoever's homeless now, will build no shelter;
who lives alone will live indefinitely so,
waking up to read a little, draft long letters,
and, along the city's avenues,
fitfully wander, when the wild leaves loosen.
