Abandoned. Lost. Rot
on cobwebbed doorsteps. Their joy,
crumbles to sadness.
Abandoned. Lost. Rot
on cobwebbed doorsteps. Their joy,
crumbles to sadness.
No season’s cold bites
my flesh as sweet as Autumn’s
does in September.
We’re at odds on all
things, but one. I concede. Your
fall sunsets are best.
Earth tone table cloths
Naked trees, light family feuds
Uncork the cheap wine.
I’m on a quest to document Autumn.
These cartoonists helped me out:
This piece came from an Ivan Brunetti exercise in his book Cartooning: Philosophy and Practice.
Hey, a single leaf on a naked tree still counts as Autumn.
The late Richard Thompson is still underrated.
I must be reading the wrong articles because his name isn’t mentioned enough amongst the great cartoonists.
He also cleared up for us why they tie trees up…
From: Cul de Sac: This Exit
Only John Porcellino could’ve captured Thoreau at Walden properly in comic form.
What have these cartoonists taught us?
The place to enjoy Autumn is outside.
Summer’s neighbor knocks.
Pennant races, Charlie Brown.
Flannel season glows.
Frosted morning grass.
Rusted goalposts stand alone.
First twenty two play.
Jack-O-Lanterns rot.
Red bellied squirrels wander.
Dortmund four points clear.