As imperceptibly as grief
The summer lapsed away,—
Too imperceptible at last
To feel like perfidy.
A quietness distilled,
As twilight long begun,
Or Nature spending with herself
Sequestered afternoon.
The dusk drew earlier in,
The morning foreign shone,—
A courteous yet harrowing grace
As guest that would be gone.
And thus without a wing
Or service of a keel
Our summer made her light escape
Into the Beautiful.
I know the calendar gives us a date for the beginning of autumn but it never seems so specific to me. Summer days, autumn days, back to summer heat, then autumn's cool, and finally more autumn than summer and the leaves change colors. Autumn is my favorite season but I also love the transition from summer to autumn.
--Nancy.
