autumn haiku sequence

The red and gold maple leaves

crushed on the sidewalk

set the concrete on fire.



A crow caws from up above

in the naked tree,

black cry from a nest of bone.



And farther above me still

from the weeping sky

falls water cold as death's hand.



Each day colder than before,

I feel winter's breath

coming nearer and nearer.



Even the fire-colored trees

seem to me to be

more pyres than things flamed with life.



I can feel darkness creeping

into every day

sneaking bit by loathsome bit,



and even noon-light's muted

in a veil of gray --

rainclouds last the season long.



Autumn's not so bad alone

but for what it brings,

season of cold, of anguish,



insufferable shadow.

I feel it coming --

bitter graveyard of winter.