Ceres paints in shades of cream,
daubing light like candle gleam
in autumn;
a mother’s sign when daughter leaves,
soft-whistling wind in union grieves
in autumn;
in seed-pod spike, in brittle stem,
desiccated requiem,
in autumn;
grasses in allegiance tender
bow their annual surrender
in autumn;
luminous mantle, light as breath,
gentle over sleep and death,
in autumn;
mother’s vigil thus ignited
over waning year twilighted,
in autumn.
More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg
and to artful arranger D.J. Berg.
Oddments 
September 25, 2022 at 12:34 pm
Autumn is definitely here – 42 degrees this morning when I made coffee. I may need to make some dessert today just to warm up the kitchen. Think that excuse will fly? Nah. 🙂
September 25, 2022 at 12:43 pm
It works for me — warming up the kitchen is a great reason to bake dessert. Of course then you have to find some noble persons to volunteer to eat it. With a morning temperature of 42, you have no choice: you have to do both!
September 26, 2022 at 10:13 am
I put chili in the pot and decided it needed some cornbread with honey to go with it and then, of course, we needed a dessert to start the week off so why not bake a batch of brownies while the oven was hot. I hate to waste electricity. 🙂
September 26, 2022 at 10:20 am
Thank you — that was a laugh-out-loud for me! I just read your comment to Dan after I laughed at his Flintstone wheel. So you and Dan have rescued me from the effects of skimming the news of the morning. My mom used to bake cornbread with bacon on the bottom in a two-ton cast iron pan. Same with you?
September 26, 2022 at 10:21 am
That got sent before it was supposed to be. Please excuse all mistakes. I make lots.
September 26, 2022 at 11:17 am
Oh, you have my taste buds firing on all circuits just thinking about bacon and corn bread being cooked together. I have never had that, but I just know it was delicious.
September 26, 2022 at 11:20 am
She learned to cook cornbread that way from her Grandma deep in the hills of North Carolina. Taste buds firing on all circuits sounds dangerous!
September 25, 2022 at 1:38 pm
Maureen, it was 40 degrees here yesterday morning and 43 this morning. I baked an apple pie yesterday, so I’ll warm myself up today having another slice with a hot cup of tea!
The photograph is spectacular as is your poem. You are indeed a talented wordsmith and reading your words is a joy.
Autumn has made her appearance loud and clear! I love Autumn, but not the fact that it heralds Winters arrival. Winter is certainly beautiful, but my old bones can’t take the cold anymore. Ahhhh, the Golden Years sure leave a lot to be desired!
Ginger
September 25, 2022 at 1:48 pm
Apple pie??!! There are few things in life more wonderful. What a perfect autumn perfume! You and Judy are forcing me to bake something. Mornings in the 40s are indeed a sign of autumn and I totally agree that autumn would be the perfect season were it not that it brings on winter. I love the snow but, as you say, my old bones don’t enjoy it as much as they used to. Thanks for your kind words. I too love the photo. He caught the autumn light beautifully in it, I think.
September 25, 2022 at 1:59 pm
Absolutely beautiful poetry, so poignant. I looked forward to Autumn for many weeks this consistently humid summer. I think it’s a first for me because, indeed, it leads to seriously trying times of winter’s extremes and extended indoorness. I am thrilled, though, to sleep with socks and a comforter, again, and to know folks are readying apple pie, apple crisp, and enjoying the county fairs! 🌷
September 25, 2022 at 2:32 pm
Thank you! I agree about being released from humid heat; it was unrelenting for a chunk this past summer, and these newly cool mornings are a most welcome contrast. To be thinking of comforters and apple crisp is the good part. Throw in an old flannel shirt and a vat of soup, and winter is do-able!
September 25, 2022 at 2:54 pm
Yes! 😊
September 25, 2022 at 2:43 pm
This is beautiful. I find autumn a bit sad; this captures it beautifully.
September 25, 2022 at 3:46 pm
Thanks, Judy. It’s a real puzzlement, isn’t it, the way there is such beauty and yet it marks the coming of such cold barrenness? I have always felt so sorry for Ceres. Well, and for Proserpina too.
September 25, 2022 at 7:07 pm
I am enjoying the full arrival of autumn. This is a beautiful poem.
September 25, 2022 at 7:10 pm
Thanks, Dan. Autumn certainly seems to be upon us!
September 26, 2022 at 1:30 am
That’s a good thing.
September 29, 2022 at 8:25 pm
I agree with Dan. This is a beautiful one.
September 29, 2022 at 11:06 pm
Thank you!