Autumn Transformation

In Autumn we begin to pour
From pitchers speckled crimson-gold,
Chipped from real disaster,
Though making juice is no new chore
We're apt to let it sit
In vessels just awhile
Where can absorb the tiny bits
That give color to the nectar
Life-drink alchemy no more delay
But careful,
Pick out just the best,
From pitchers made of clay

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