The Spirit of the Wood

Peter by the garden gate
and Susan by the wall
could see the spirit of the wood
slip in behind the stall.

It looked like the leaves of autumn,
the gold leaves of the fall,
but its eyes were like the winter,
cold blue and practical.

And there was a touch of summer,
of spring around the mouth,
of heat and green fertility,
of breezes from the south.

It made poor Peter shiver.
It made sweet Susan laugh.
It went over to the river
to write its epitaph.