Dogs, Autumn Leaves and other Intimations of Immortality

Post 82

Falls coming on.

Leafy duff in piles of fluff
Beguiles my dog

Who jacknives in,
Snorts and spins.

A purple leaf
Breaths on his nose,
He smells the cloves
Warming in the wine,

As we homeward trek;

Through flecks of life once lived
Trampled rainbow signs
Of all we hoped to bid
And all we knew must die.

Any dog can smell a coming meal;

Like the brightness of dead leaves
Bringing out this brighter feel
-- To what indeed may come
When all we know is done.