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“
Dolor of Autumn
David Herbert Lawrence 1885 (Eastwood, Nottinghamshire) – 1930 (Vence)
The acrid scents of autumn,(0.00 / 0 votes)
Reminiscent of slinking beasts, make me fear
Everything, tear-trembling stars of autumn
And the snore of the night in my ear.
For suddenly, flush-fallen,
All my life, in a rush
Of shedding away, has left me
Naked, exposed on the bush.
I, on the bush of the globe,
Like a newly-naked berry, shrink
Disclosed: but I also am prowling
As well in the scents that slink
Abroad: I in this naked berry
Of flesh that stands dismayed on the bush;
And I in the stealthy, brindled odours
Prowling about the lush
And acrid night of autumn;
My soul, along with the rout,
Rank and treacherous, prowling,
Disseminated out.
For the night, with a great breath intaken,
Has taken my spirit outside
Me, till I reel with disseminated consciousness,
Like a man who has died.
At the same time I stand exposed
Here on the bush of the globe,
A newly-naked berry of flesh
For the stars to probe.
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Citation
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"Dolor of Autumn" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 13 Apr. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/7830/dolor-of-autumn>.