Of the four girls whose parents Be the Year, Autumn spends Her quarter round in changing clothes And riots life even as she slows.
Protesting greens that fade and run, She riots best against the sun In reds and oranges and yellows; In slanting light her dancing slows.
Weeks before her dance is done, She pays her homage to the sun; Her stepping slow; she dresses down For waltzes sad in somber brown.
At curtain call, her early temper loses sway; Refined before the end, she dresses for ballet And pirouettes in faded brown A shadow now in dying light. She pirouettes in faded brown, Beside a sister white.