by T.E. Hulme
Read by Emma Rye
A touch of cold in the Autumn night
I walked abroad,
And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge
Like a red-faced farmer.
I did not stop to speak, but nodded;
And round about were the wistful stars
With white faces like town children.
Retrieved from: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/autumn-3