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October in Stockbridge
A New England reflection We came where Berkshire whispers dwell, To walk the streets where silence fell On painted doors and windowpanes, Where autumn’s breath through white walls strains. The maples blushed, the sky was clean - A burnished blue, October’s sheen - The kind of day New England keeps To dream on when the winter sleeps. The Steady One, with gentle pace, Moved like a hush through time and place. She paused for blooms in window sills, And let her wonder take the hills. We reached the Inn - the Lion’s heart, Whitewashed and storied, …
