A Poem by Emily Dickinson

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Autumn

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown,
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown,
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.

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This page contains a single entry by Ron Moffat published on October 1, 2007 11:20 AM.

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