October

inspired by Robert Frost's

The sun had barely dried the dew
when autumn's cool came long past due.
The leaves that colored forest feet
had gathered there where tree trunks meet.

As leaf after another fell,
October's tales begin to tell;
of starry nights of amethyst
of buried summers and winter's midst.

Still yet flamed month did not reveal
what gives it shades and warm appeal.
Her moons, or goblins, fruit galore,
or hues that give it its decor?

Not April's rain or August's glow
or even crisp December's snow
could ne'er take from October's mirth
whose golden colors give it worth.

by Celeste Butler-Mendez
Copyright © October 3, 2006