
An autumn morning with
crisp awareness of summer past.
Brings to memory how
the saints soon hover and last.
Orange pumpkins lay to rot
Along the porch and drive.
While chapel bells ring
calling ‘All Souls’, who still survive.
Copyright © CMM 2018
Creative Writings by published poet Christine McNeill-Matteson
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An autumn morning with
crisp awareness of summer past.
Brings to memory how
the saints soon hover and last.
Orange pumpkins lay to rot
Along the porch and drive.
While chapel bells ring
calling ‘All Souls’, who still survive.
Copyright © CMM 2018