The Fortunate Fall

For Nikolai Klyuev and Sergei Yesenin together

The autumns of New England shine bright-sad.

They, though mixed with gray of rain and twinned

With exultation and with howls, break glad

In spite of death.  If Eve had never sinned,

This brilliance of the fall would not be ours.

This fall of yellows, reds, and scarlet leaves

Around white clapboard churches would lose powers

Of mind’s salvation.  Heart is forced to grieve

With oranges of brilliance on the walls

Inside the organ’s chambers.  Birch tree whites

Stay on in Maine in all succeeding falls

And glow in autumn Massachusetts nights.

  How fortunate we are, we feel, when we

    Ignore protrusions like theology.