The Name-of It-is 'autumn'

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The name-of it-is 'Autumn'-
The hue-of it-is Blood-
An Artery-upon the Hill-
A Vein-along the Road-

Great Globules-in the Alleys-
And Oh, the Shower of Stain-
When Winds-upset the Basin-
And spill the Scarlet Rain-

It sprinkles Bonnets-far below-
It gathers ruddy Pools-
Then-eddies like a Rose-away-
Upon Vermilion Wheels-

Emily Dickinson The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.