The Hunkering

In October the red leaves going brown heap and
        scatter
over hayfield and dirt road, over garden and circular
        driveway,

and rise in a curl of wind dishevelled as
        schoolchildren
at recess, school just starting and summer done,
        winter’s

white quiet beginning in ice on the windshield, in
        hard frost
that only blue asters survive, and in the long houses
        that once

more tighten themselves for darkness and
        hunker down.

— Donald Hall

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