Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian princes,
But soon they’ll turn to ghosts.

— William Allingham (1824-1889), Irish poet

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Green how I want you green.
Green wind. Green branches.

Federico GarcĂ­a Lorca (1898-1936), Spanish poet, playwright

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her swung breasts
Sway like full-blown yellow
Gloire de Dijon roses.

D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930), British poet and author

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the great orange bed where we lie
like two frozen paintings in a field of poppies.

Anne Sexton (1928-1974), American poet and writer

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Swinging
clusters of red, the hedges are full of them,
red-currant red, a graceful
ornament or a merry smile.

Denise Levertov (b. 1923), Anglo-American poet

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Thanks for bringing a little Fall to Southern California.

The photographers are:

GREEN

Pam, Austria

Sweet, Washington D.C.

Boutros, Virginia

Dagny, Berkeley

Rhea, Boston

YELLOW

Dana, Connecticut

Tara, Iowa City

Joan, Winnipeg

Caitlin, New York

ORANGE

Jessica, St. Louis

Jenny, Chicago

Alison, Kentucky

Chantel, Portland

Sarah, Pennsylvania

Elizabeth, New Hampshire

RED

Cynical Girl, New York

Elisabeth, Pennsylvania

Pearl, Ottawa

Marianne, Massachusetts