The Mist and All
Dixie Willson
I like the fall,
The mist and all,
I like the night owl’s
Lonely call —
And wiling sound
Of wind around.
I like the gray
November day,
And bare, dead boughs
That coldly sway
Against my pane,
I like the rain.
I like to sit
And laugh at it —
And tend
My cozy fire a bit,
I like the fall —
The mist and all —