Six Quatrains
AUTUMN
gold of amber
red of ember
brown of umber
all September
MCCOY CREEK
Over the bright shallows
now no flights of swallows.
Leaves of the sheltering willow
dangle thin and yellow.
OCTOBER
At four in the morning the west wind
moved in the leaves of the beech tree
with a long rush and patter of water,
first wave of the dark tide coming in.
SOLSTICE
On the longest night of all the year
in the forests up the hill,
the little owl spoke soft and clear
to bid the night be longer still.
THE WINDS OF MAY
are soft and restless
in their leafy garments
that rustle and sway
making every moment movement.
HAIL
The dogwood cowered under the thunder
and the lilacs burned like light itself
against the storm-black sky until the hail
whitened the grass with petals.
Notes
Mark Strand's The Remains searches for what survives when memory, identity, and familiar attachments are stripped away. Ursula K. Le Guin's Six Quatrains turns that attention outward, finding the passage of time in six brief encounters with nature: the fading colours of autumn, swallows that have departed, wind moving through October's trees, and petals scattered by a sudden hailstorm. Each scene captures a world already in motion, where nothing holds its form for very long. The seasons give these changes a familiar rhythm, yet Le Guin reminds us how much of existence unfolds beyond our control or even our attention. A willow loses its leaves, an owl calls into the longest night, and the world continues its quiet transformations without needing anyone to witness them. There is something especially fitting about these poems for October's decay. The gold of September gives way to thinning branches and darker winds, while the lilacs, briefly illuminated against a storm, are scattered across the grass. Beauty appears in the very moments that reveal how fragile it is, and even the smallest changes carry the passing of an entire season. #UrsulaKLeGuin #impermanence #nature #Poetry #autumn