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Dark Edges
Mary Lou Taylor


The road up Elmore Mountain a shower
of flares, one burst of fireworks outdoing
the next, the sugar maple reddest of all,
its work long finished, time now for show
before the fall.

The path layered with russet, burnt
orange, scarlet, gold. Look, we’re
walking on jewels. In the mirror
of the inn at Stowe pale cheeks
flame from the cold.

Harvest over, winter still to come.
Edges lined in dark, bright
leaves swirl underfoot,
flutter in the brisk air, colors
half a rainbow, half a covenant.

© by Mary Lou Taylor.
Used with the author’s permission.

Mary Lou Taylor tried three other majors before settling on English. A teacher off and on for many years, she got serious about writing poetry after she retired. Author of one book and published in several journals and anthologies, she has a second book in the works and has proven retirement to be the myth it so often is by continuing to teach a few writing and poetry classes. Learn more about Mary Lou, who lives in Saratoga, California, at



Post New Comment:
Strong poem, powerful in its brevity.
Posted 10/03/2011 03:15 AM
Brilliant, Mary Lou. I love it, especially those colors that "swirl underfoot." -Anjie Kokan
Posted 10/02/2011 09:42 AM

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