Ruby Tuesday: Ivy of suburbia

Green grows the ivy until, as if bled, it turns red. Taking part in Ruby Tuesday.

A better Autumn poem is A Vagabond Song by Canadian Bliss Carman (1861 –1929)

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood— 

Touch of manner, hint of mood; 

And my heart is like a rhyme, 

With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time. 

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry 

Of bugles going by. 

And my lonely spirit thrills 

To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills. 

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir; 

We must rise and follow her, 

When from every hill of flame 

She calls and calls each vagabond by name.