I have long been a fan of Ursula Le Guin’s fiction, which blends science and fantasy. I have enjoyed her challenges to the established conventions of genre, giving us characters who redefine understanding of gender and race, as well as often having clear political subtexts. I had not realised until recently that she was a poet too.
Autumn seems to resonate with many writers, and poets in particular. I have always found it easier to find words when the leaves begin to turn and the temperature drops. I try to read seasonally, and this poem of Le Guin’s really struck a chord with me.
What happens to our identity as time passes? When the leaves turn, are we still the same person we were when the first budded out in spring? What can the firey fall tell us, what questions can it pose.
Here’s a link to the poem Leaves by Ursula Le Guin
Also, here’s a little autumn haiku of my own, written from a prompt by the wonderful poet Wendy Pratt, whose online poetry courses are brilliant, for more information on those, look here Wendy Pratt Poetry