Poetry

Autumn (#1471)

The leaves are falling,
Whispers of winter are calling,
Autumn is well under way,
It’s getting colder every day,
Shorter days and longer nights,
Fewer people rocking beneath their porch lights,
Fewer people walking at dusk on the street,
More and more people turning on their heat,
Air almost cold enough to flurry,
Fewer and fewer animals on the scurry,
The yard no longer so green,
Parts of it can’t even be seen,
Trees in various colors and hues,
The season of the muse.

Any Thoughts?

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