Dolor Of Autumn by D.H. Lawrence — Read

THE acrid scents of autumn,

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.