Autumn Tears

Golden ones and red slow dance silently

Dusk’s song illuminates a rusty glitter,
Dressing the grounds in colorful array
Begin to gather the summer days away,
It causes to wonder the origins and aromas
Escaping a windowsill of cooling pies.
I can see mist from under my nose,
Now perky, teased, and drawn to those
As I breath them in, brisk and hence, as with fork
And spoon- a memory, unto it’s own
Is this grand harvest, a blessing, shown;
As the crunch under foot continues to break
The silence of woodlands crying and lumber,
Nature’s repose …her cycle of slumber.
And the leaves- … hurried by breezes
Bring a close with fond tidings to the season before
And bid, “Farewell, alas, until next time we meet,
When we and such wash o’er streets,
Ride down lanes and color roads, we wanderers,
Blanket hills in the splendor of summer’s sleep
And drape the land with its seasonal weep.”

Copyright © 2001 by Thomas E. Buccine Jr.