Fall Fantasy

I am Fall.
Hear me now in repentant mood;
This once I say truth to you.

I have preached peace to you because that is my trade;
I have taught you with brown landscapes and misty mornings
And with the long quiet of Indian-summer days.
I have led you into country lanes
There I might talk with you privately,
Where I might say to you, "Here Peace Dwells
War is over; no longer shall the struggle continue.
See, grass blades are rusting by the roadside.
The militant urge leaves the willow by the creek-bed
And runs down the brown stem into the cool earth.
Here the wind utters a little plaintive cry
(Its own requiem) and is quiet then
Forever and ever."

That is what I say to you, but it is not true.
(I admit this in my repentant mood
Before Spring gives me the lie.)