by Emily Dickinson
656
The name-of it-is "Autumn"-
The hue-of it-is Blood-
An Artery-upon the Hill-
A Vein-along the Road-
Great Globules-in the Alleys-
And Oh, the Shower of Stain-
When Winds-upset the Basin-
And spill the Scarlet Rain-
It sprinkles Bonnets-far below-
It gathers ruddy Pools-
Then-eddies like a Rose-away-
Upon Vermilion Wheels-
Last updated June 21, 2015