Late Autumn in the Hills / Laura Sherry

Late Autumn in the Hills

A flock of birds
Spurts down the trail of autumn.

Bare hills
Wrap fog-blankets about them,
And nod. . . .      

A whirl of wind
Scatters wild rice over the lake.

There is a shake of snow in the air.
My boat moors in the sedges.

My hand    
Droops over the side of the boat.
My fingers
Touch a lotus pod.
The seeds rattle in the husk.

Autumn is anchored.

~~
Laura Sherry (1876-1947)
from Poetry, September 1922

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the United States]

Laura Sherry biography