The echoes held him, hugged him, hurled him down,
And above all October seemed to shout:
‘You worried you with what it’s all about.
I have held stronger than you longer down.
It’s only the small leaf I cannot rout
When upper branches, without breaking, bend
And wave aside the motion that I send
Across the world to try and drive you out.’
Wind shook the barren limbs from end to end
All things on earth were whirled far up above.
He walked across the earth that buries love,
And heard the wind increase around each bend;
And still the echoes held him, but he laughed:
‘Autumn will pass. The oyster hugs her pearl.
Seasons are nothing sudden in a world
Where snow will fall on leaves that fell on grass.’
—Harold Fleming, “The Echoes”
Art Credit Emile Hyperion Dubuisson
