Wednesday, August 24, 2011
By Jim Rapp
The beauty of fall is the beauty of amber;
Hard lines of contoured grain reborn –
De-born – as varied shades of gold
Spread over fields that promised,
Only days before, eternal green.
It is a death that is at once a harvest
And a promise; a Eucharist
Of bread and wine
Wrung from the lushness
Of what seemed eternal kingdom.
The bounty of fall’s harvest
Sustains the winter-clad
And fuels a hope
That ice and snow and cruel cold