Charlottesville autumnal haiku
Just a scribbling from a notebook the other day…
Bricks last three lifetimes,
maple leaves, a season; but
both are the same red.
Once the leaves are gone,
at last you see the ridge of
the Blue Ridge Mountains.
By each student’s door
logs stacked forward and crossways;
no chimneys smoke yet.
[Footnote to the last one: the tiny single rooms on the Lawn are awarded to undergraduates as a particularly high honor. Since the rooms are still heated by the original fireplaces, the university provides firewood, which is stacked in neat woodpiles next to every room.]
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