Autumn Sonnet #3 By May Sarton
I wake to gentle mist over the meadow
The chilling atmosphere before sunrise
Where half my world lies still asleep in shadow
And half is touched awake as if by eyes.
Sparse yellow leaves high in the air are struck
To sudden flame as the first rays break through
And all the brightness gathers to that mark,
While floating in the dim light far below
A monarch settles on an autumn crocus
For one last drink before impending flight.
The slow pulse of the wings brings into focus
The autumn scene and all its dark and bright,
And suddenly the granite rock is split
As sun lights up exactly half of it.