The hummingbird has lingered.
A rhododendron blooms.
But each night autumn’s chilly dreams
Stalk through our bedrooms.
The sky is gray and blank,
Then eloquent with sun.
The mood keeps shifting on the street
From “Do Not Walk!” to “Run!”
It’s lonely as the planet
Passes the summer on.
Is there a place in outer space
To see where it has gone?
The leaves that mask the distance
Beyond the city’s trees
Have felt the change of heartwood that
Will bring them to our knees.
The baby in her crib
Watches the aspens quake.
We watch her as she watches them
And know our hearts will break.
Dear Reader,
Can I be direct with you?
War abroad. Socialists on the rise. AI upending human life. Endless uproar online. The modern attention economy doesn’t want readers — it wants users enslaved to the tyranny of the present.
First Things is the antidote: literary excellence, timeless truths, and a fixed point of reference in a culture that has lost its bearings.
But we can’t do it without readers like you.
Our goal: Raise $150,000 by November 1 to sustain First Things in the year ahead.
Your gift anchors readers in the permanent things.
Make your Fall Campaign gift now using the button below.
If you have any questions or would like more information, please contact Giovanni Del Piero, Director of the Editor’s Circle, at gdelpiero@firstthings.com or 212-627-1985.
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