Poetry

Mid Autumn’s Rain (#166)

Mid autumn’s rain,
Its scent blows against the windowpane,
The air turns sweet and pleasingly cool,
While leaves skip and play around the pool,
Not yet fallen leaves paint around us,
Squirrels collect nuts trying to avoid a winter’s fuss,
The mornings grow a deep blue dark,
The nights take longer to leave their mark,
Gentle winds dance and spree,
While birds prepare to fly to a warmer sea,
Autumn’s here and winter is soon to come,
Carrying roadways of snow or at least a bit of some,
Spring set itself from all seasons apart,
But autumn’s the season known for art.

Any Thoughts?

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