Attics in Autumn are bright as church windows with apples and pears, each stored in their places. Sweet in the air with Summer's gathered graces of Grimes Goldens, Jonathans and striped Roman Beauties. Here are Winesaps for cider and Pippins for pies, Rhode Islands greening for tart taste surprise. Ripe poems of pears, softly blushed, fruity yellows, Bartletts and Gorhams, Tusons, and sun-mellow, Seckels, Winter Nelis, all for the season. Attics in Autumn gather the season And wrap it with murmur of bees in the eaves, Gray twigs in the skies. O, no one can buy it, Attics in Autumn's scented color of quiet.