Spells: New and Selected Poems

A Mabon Crown

46 a​mabon​croWn September 21 Our voices press from us and twine around the year’s fermenting wine Yellow​fall​roars Over​the​ground. Loud,​in​the​leafy​sun​that​pours Liquid​through​doors, Yellow,​the​leaves​twist​down as the winding of the vine pulls our curling voices— Glowing​in​wind​and​change, The​orange​leaf​tells How​one​more​season​will​alter​and​range, Working​the​strange Colors​of​clamor​and​bells In the winding of the vine our voices press out from us to twine When​autumn​gathers,​the​tree That​the​leaves​sang 47 Reddens​dark​slowly,​then,​suddenly​free, Turns​like​a​key, Opening​air​where​they​hang and the winding of the vine makes our voices turn and wind with the year’s fermented wine One​of​the​hanging​leaves, Deeply​maroon, Tightens​its​final​hold,​receives, Finally​weaves Through,​and​is​covered​soon in the winding of the vine— Holding​past​summer’s​hold, Open​and​strong, One​of​the​leaves​in​the​crown​is​gold, Set​in​the​cold Where​the​old​seasons​belong. Green​and​red​are​here, orange​and​gold, yellow,​maroon,​and​bronze,​all​near, lost​by​the​year, lost,​all​that​fall​can​hold. Here is our crown Of winding vine, Of leaves that dropped, 48 That fingers twined, Another crown To yield and shine With a year’s Fermented wine. ...