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