Poem: In Autumn’s Glow

By Phil Gallagher

The majesty of nature’s final flare

Announces summer’s closing prayer—

A farewell drawn in amber, tangerine, 

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Burning scarlet calling to be seen, 

Blazing gold and crimson light, 

A fleeting brilliance, fierce and bright. 

Leaves begin their whispered fall, 

Stirring secrets as they call 

To winds that wander through the trees, 

Tickling cheeks with a breathy breeze, 

While southbound geese in chevrons glide, 

Shadows stretched across evening skies. 

And we, New Englanders, remain— 

Chasing the hush of northern rain 

While leaf peepers wander forest paths, 

Reveling in the ephemeral flash, ,

And apple pickers laugh among the rows, ,

Wrapped in the fire of autumn’s glow .

In orchards ripe and woods alive, 

Each moment breathes, 

Each memory thrives. 

As ever earlier approaches night, 

And stories form in falling light, 

Laughter mingles with the rustling air, 

Held gently in the season’s care. 

Above, the harvest moon stands high— 

A sentinel in the quiet sky. 

The farmers rest; their work is done, 

And peace arrives with the setting sun. 

Autumn’s grace, serene and deep, 

Cradles our world in golden sleep.