656
The name—of it—is 'Autumn'—
The hue—of it—is Blood—
An Artery—upon the Hill—
A Vein—along the Road—
Great Globules—in the Alleys—
And Oh, the Shower of Stain—
When Winds—upset the Basin—
And spill the Scarlet Rain—
It sprinkles Bonnets—far below—
It gathers ruddy Pools—
Then—eddies like a Rose—away—
Upon Vermilion Wheels—
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- I Watched The Moon Around The House (629)
- The Brain, Within Its Groove
- I Felt My Life With Both My Hands
- If I Shouldn'T Be Alive
- How Many Times These Low Feet Staggered