I Have Felt The Breath

I have felt the breath of autumn wind,
With the fragrance of spring still in my heart;
I have touched, shiveringly, the skirt
Of autumn- her treasures nervously gleaned;
She laughed not like summer, nor grinned
Like the wind-weary phantom-girt;
Nights that out of winter dart
To her own wining sadness she is pinned.

With a flower, or two- a vanishing scent,
A flash of smile on her demure face,
She walks with a light half-spent
By life and half in death’s embrace;
She looks like a lady that is gracefully bent
To track the lost lover’s fading trace.