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
Cannot eradicate.

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