By Robert Cording

After my son died in October, I lived
with Keats’ Autumn in my head—
not the relish of lingering summer warmth
in mid-fall, but his one-line imperative:
Think not of the songs of spring.
I watched summer’s hummingbirds
fly off, then the gold of finches turn
dull green. But I couldn’t live with
the music of fall. I heard only those
first words—think not—which I did very well.
How much more Keats had demanded
of himself. And how many more falls I had
yet to undergo before I could hear,
just outside my door, hedge crickets sing.

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Robert Cording has published ten collections of poems, the most recent of which are In the Unwalled City (Slant, 2022) and Without My Asking (CavanKerry Press) and a prose book on poetry, Finding the World’s Fullness, from Slant. Recent poems have appeared in publications such as The Georgia Review, Hudson Review, The Common, Agni, Best American Poetry 2018, and the Pushcart Prize Anthology 2022.