TO HIM WOULD DRAW ME OUT TO SAIL

Yes nature’s lovely in the fall —
As trees change color — green to gold —
What leaves! — behold! — by breeze — so bold —
To take them — bare — then — branches tall —
As listen we to Autumn call
For winter-wind so clear and cold —
Who layer snow in blankets — fold
The deep brown earth in whiteness all.

Ahoy! Ahoy! November day!
This river ride we in your boat —
Aside us palisade of shale;
Atop — red-tree-crown’d — “Look!” you say — —
...But I just marvel — as we float —
At him would draw me out to sail.


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Flint Hunter / Firestone Feinberg 2011