Paul Gruchow’s poem “Autumn,” read by J.H.
Excerpt taken from his book "Journal of a Prairie Year."
(00:00:00) One morning. It was still dark when I awakened. The pre-dawn singing of the birds had faded away. The voices of the insects had died and the air had assumed the crispness of fall. The crunch of dry leaves could be heard underfoot.
(00:00:15) It was somehow as if it had never happened
(00:00:17) before the crows were flying in noisy flocks again in the Brilliant Blue Petals of the gentians had dried up and Fallen away leaving behind only the bright flowers of an aster here or there. The first light frosted come it was football time Apple Time Harvest Time hunting time school time
(00:00:38) quickened. It was exciting to be in transition. It seemed more like the beginning of something that like the end of it. It
(00:00:46) was time for colds
(00:00:47) and viruses and time to dig heavier jackets out of the closets time to water the new grass to prepare the bulb beds for planning this time to press leaves between waxed paper to bring them home put them. Cases the walk on the opposite side of the street where the opportunities to hear them crunch seemed better it was time to collect the cocoons of moths and they chrysalises of butterflies time to bring them into the safekeeping of bug houses.
(00:01:15) It's time to wonder what wonders they would bring
(00:01:19) it was time to begin planning for Halloween begin anticipating Christmas begin wishing there was little snow on the ground together the shoals of the acorns with their face. Is like owls
(00:01:31) it was time to practice
(00:01:32) alphabets. It was time to walk through the puddles one last time. It's time to cut flowers for mommy one last time. This is the golden time the time of Rosy Cheeks. It's a Timeless specially made for children.