The maple burns to airy lemon leaves, With drops of scarlet oozing quaintly through; The sumach crimsons, under lifted sheaves Of somber red; wild ivy has a new Magnificence in lacy threads of fire Leading from earth to the sky caught in the trees; The poison ivy is a flaming lyre To brighten the wind's chilly harmonies. There is red -- gay red -- on the dogwood; there is red On the sweetgum; there is dull red on the oak; The shrubs, the withering herbs, have openly bled To crimson anger, like a stolid folk Who stood too long the unobtrusive knout, Until their slow wrath blazed bloodily out. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ODE ON THE UNVEILING OF THE SHAW MEMORIA BOSTON COMMON, MAY 31, 1897 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE LITTLE DANCERS by LAURENCE BINYON ALL RELIGIONS ARE ONE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE ROSE AND THORN by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE |