October

October
By Rosemary J. Gwaltney

October
tiptoed in
during the night,
all lacy silken tasseled
shawls; draped in grey velvet
fog and gowned in misted maples
and firs. I opened my dawning eyes
and it was edging quietly round the
windows like a clandestine
lover who had been
watching me
sleep.

TFR Home Page | Submission Guidelines | Frequently Asked Questions | Sign Our Guest Book | Contents | Donations
Workshops | Event Calendar | TFR Background | How to Contact Us | Editors and Authors Only | Privacy Statement

© Copyright 1997, 2025, The Fairfield Review Inc., All Rights Reserved.
Document last modified on: 01/06/2007

<script>
(function(i,s,o,g,r,a,m){i['GoogleAnalyticsObject']=r;i[r]=i[r]||function(){
(i[r].q=i[r].q||[]).push(arguments)},i[r].l=1*new Date();a=s.createElement(o),
m=s.getElementsByTagName(o)[0];a.async=1;a.src=g;m.parentNode.insertBefore(a,m)
})(window,document,'script','https://www.google-analytics.com/analytics.js','ga');

ga('create', 'UA-22493141-2', 'auto');
ga('send', 'pageview');

</script>