Because Autumn Demands Poetry

I thought of this poem this morning, as I was sorting through my fall "trinkets" (I went with an autumn flower in my hair...):

Autumn

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.

--Emily Dickinson