The Authenticity of Autumn

Woodland paths glimmer
in the breath of dawn
and shadows withdraw,
musky miasmas of mulch.
Leaves spin, dizzy helicopters,
colours bright as fire, until they land
in a dog-pile and rot underfoot.
Wracked with weather scars,
ancient trees slow, branch and root,
their fissures adorned with fungus
and spiralling mushrooms
of sulphurous yellow, orange and red.
Voluptuous earthy autumn
lures the world to her winter bed.

Kim M. Russell, 7th November 2019

Image result for autumn woods with fungus and mushrooms on trees in autumn Pinterest
Image found on Pinterest

My response to Poets United Midweek Motif: Authenticity

This week Susan asks interesting questions. What makes each of us authentic?  Where and when are we most authentic?  Do people perceive us as inauthentic if we change?  In what ways does authenticity shape anyone’s writing and art? 

She has shared quotes from Rilke, Auden and Brené Brown, as well as stunning poetry from Wallace Stevens, Edna St Vincent Millay and Paul Laurence Dunbar.

18 thoughts on “The Authenticity of Autumn

  1. I had to look up “dog-pile” and once I knew what it meant this poem made me smile even more. Here is play and brightness and color and rot and aging all piled up together–so many layers of communication. Autumn is vitally alive. Beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Susan. When we were little, we used to love making a dog-pile, but one of my sisters was over-enthusiastic and would climb on a chair to jump on the rest of us.

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  2. Gosh this is incredibly gorgeous, Kim!! ❤️ I love; “Wracked with weather scars, ancient trees slow, branch and root, their fissures adorned with fungus and spiralling mushrooms of sulphurous yellow, orange and red.” 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Rajani! The leaves have the most wonderful colours at the moment and there are so many berries – a sign of a hard winter, and we’ve already had frost. I even lit the fire yesterday. Not that I’m complaining. I love autumn.

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