Autumn Vixen I
Look at her lovely sly eyes
glinting darkly among the leaves;
a fox, but only in disguise—
her red hair often bereaves.
Autumn Vixen II
Autumn blew a chill kiss with its wind
through the tree-lined streets of our small town
and teased us softly of Summer’s end
when her leaves would soon fade and fall down.
Eager to wear her yellows and reds
and that drab brown frock she herself loves,
she coos, and her breath goes to our heads
with a fog that rolls over foxgloves.
An artful lover, she also weaves
spells with her middle-aged, mature charms,
yet playful, too, as winds through the leaves
so her love is fresh and, thus, disarms.
And though withering with winds so cold
that you bundle up for her embrace
she is lovely, still, her colors bold—
lovelier than Winter’s haggard face.
Autumn Vixen III
When the season reaches an age
and cares not for judgment from the world,
she may well turn to the next page
and let her dress fall freely, unfurled,
and welcome onto her bare breast
a man daring the scandalous task—
naked, unafraid, wholly blessed
with neither name nor shame nor a mask.