Fall is when-
night is up
early.
A seasonal flare,
triggered trees in
flames.
Waving their flags-
to snowy surrender.
Warning warmly,
of Winters wanton wrath.
The air is crisp-
brittled and bundled,
nipping at numbing noses.
The sun briefly visits,
in cool fading interest,
bowing to the Wind
conducting the colorful chorus.
Dying leaves
stray and wander
in drifting decay.
Stockpiled and strewn,
tokens of child’s play.
Crimson, copper, coral,
tangerine, apricot, peach,
amber, saffron and shades of blonde;
Mother Earth blazing trails,
spilt her prismatic palette,
all over the canvased
November sky-
for no rhyme,
or reason,
Autumn is a lovely season.
Image by Digital nick, "Autumn in Slovakia", Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons.
