Bending above the spicy woods which blaze,
Arch skies so blue they flash, and hold the sun
Immeasurably far; the waters run
Too slow, so freighted are the river-ways
With gold of elms and birches from the maze
Of forests. Chestnuts, clicking one by one,
Escape from satin burs; her fringes done,
The gentian spreads them out in sunny days,
And, like late revelers at dawn, the chance
Of one sweet, mad, last hour, all things assail,
And conquering, flush and spin; while, to enhance
The spell, by sunset door, wrapped in a veil
Of red and purple mists, the summer, pale,
Steals back alone for one more song and dance.

Helen Hunt Jackson

One comment on “October

  1. Bflyguy says:

    It seems lots of poets have a passion for October. Author Jack Kerouac fondly cited the month often in his works, as well as singer Van Morrison and Canadian poet Archibald Lampman. (our Whitman) My favorite mention of the month is from the Farmer’s Almanac (forgot which year) which stated, “October always has 19 fine days.” I like that kind of optimism. Never heard of Helen Hunt Jackson but will now investigate her works. Thanks!!

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