Fall, Cleveland to Chautauqua

by nick sirianno

Fall, Cleveland to Chautauqua

Where the hill and threaded bobbin lie
through the green and hardened boughs and why
what yarn has come to lay and lie
in the leafy graves of an umbered sky
the choral banks and carmine eye
of the cardinal that sits in disguise
the golden finch that floats and glides
on a gilded limb to claim his prize
the posy wren that shakes and shys
then falls to her blushing bed and dies
hums a whistling hymn and sighs
out to the burnt sierra dries
the honey aspen hearted skies
the dovey thrush that fall and fly
on the patterns of her poetry

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