Autumn or Keats' Correction

How can you be called mellow
when all around you are burning?
In auburn flame the light gutters
and half-lit hues of chestnut give birth,
To creeping, wombed darknesses of night.

Not mellow, for the intensity of that growth,
That winter tumour, is strong.
Nights are becoming drawn and days
are pencilled in
Vermilion
Persimmon
Otter
Pumpkin
Cinnamon.

Not fruitless,
For what could be better than
The fireworks of your feet,
Delivered by rusted munroes?

Not fruitless,
For after the ginger gestation,
Your gold will bear silver.