There is nothing that quite captures the turn to Autumn as perfectly as Emily’s poem – I hope you enjoy
As imperceptibly as Grief
The Summer lapsed away –
Too imperceptible at last,
To seem like Perfidy –
A Quietness distilled
As Twilight long begun
Or Nature spending with herself
Sequestered Afternoon –
The Dusk drew earlier in –
The Morning foreign shone –
A courteous, yet harrowing Grace,
As Guest, that would be gone –
And thus, without a Wing
Or service of a Keel
Our Summer made her light escape
Into the beautiful.
Emily Dickinson
