Thomas Hardy's "Last Week in October"

Today's poem is Thomas Hardy's "Last Week in October." The trees are undressing, and fling in many places—On the gray road, the roof, the window-sill—Their radiant robes and ribbons and yellow laces;A leaf each second so is flung at will,Here, there, another and another, still and still.A spider's web has caught one while downcoming,That stays there dangling when the rest pass on;Like a suspended criminal hangs he, mummingIn golden garb, while one yet green, high yon,Trembles, as fearing such a fate for himself anon. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Get full access to The Daily Poem Podcast at dailypoempod.substack.com/subscribe