First Day of Autumn

First day of Autumn
© Anne Hills

On the first day of autumn she will get out her sweaters
Make a sprucewood fire and read Van Gogh’s letters
She will stand on a hill
And breathe in cool air ‘til she’s dizzy, while standing still

On the first day of autumn she will throw wide her doors
Let the red leaves in to sweeten her floors
She will brew Jasmine tea
And call you long distance, needing your words and your company

She will wander the cobblestone paths of September
through smoke-scented clouds of October into the harvest of sweet November

On the first day of autumn she will dust off her hat
Reaching for her broom, she’ll call to her cat
And she will lift up her eyes
To see barren branches scratching the steel grey skies

On the first day of autumn she’ll buy apples and wine
Drink until she’s young, slow dancing with time
And she will find herself lost
With Edna St. Vincent Millay in a field of frost

She will wander the cobblestone paths of September
through smoke-scented clouds of October into the harvest of sweet November