Autumn

I saw the ploughed field,
With long sinking troughs,
And thought of the ploughman's yield,
Him putting his goods aloft.

I saw the birds pecking
At worms and the like,
And knew they were letting,
The earth abound with new light.

Light along the troughs,
Light in the furrows,
Resting on wings of moths,
And faltering into rabbits burrows.

I saw brown branches,
In even browner trees,
And then I had fancies,
Of summer's humming bees.