Autumn's Country

-from our drive last week-

Autumn's Country

This is Autumn's country
We are driving through--
Stubble fields, pale golden;
Sky, wild-aster blue.

Goldenrod and rose haws
By the dusty road;
Water trickling wanly
Where spring freshets flowed.

Smoke from hillside clearings,
Tantalizing hints
Of orchard spices--apple,
Nut and peach and quince.

Red leaves on the maples,
Purple-clustered vines--
This is Autumn's country;
These, its certain signs.

-Ethel Romig Fuller

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