Invincible summer |||

Fall air

Alastair Howard Robertson

It is today the smell of fall
Complex, distinct;
Not quite so sweet on the air 
As fruitwood branches burning, but
Softer than the bite of leaves
Later and darker, going under ground.

It is today I take and map
This one more time
Into the web of sense recalled;
Each strand followed winding out
Like Ariadne’s thread
From the deep reaches, woven under ground.

It is today the measured yield,
The gathering:
Maple and birch and tamarack and elm
Sifting the summer down to fine,
Final invisible gold
Tiny and seeded deep in the bare ground.