Indie Scribe Magazine February 2015 | Page 48

There is a red which certain maples wear

This time of year in Maine. It speaks in calm

Authoritative tones that banish transient

woes.

When come upon it captivates the heart,

And gives observers pause to contemplate

It's fire juxtaposed with winter's coming frost.

Like the glimpse or scent of love absent

It's bittersweet embrace aches.

with promise.

Autumn Red

© 2013 Frederick Andrew