I know, I know...summer isn't over. But Fall is coming. (It was 48 degrees at my house this morning)

Autumn morning cool and gray

Sunless clouded sky

Leaves shiver though chilled

On trees that sway

Awakening from an even colder night

 

Rust-colored remnants lay about

Not discarded willfully

But torn of wind

Hastily thrown to the ground

Scattered thoughtlessly

Tree and wind act of their own accord

 

Autumn comes—slow, at first

Building upon itself

Layers of cold and color and mirth

The world to engulf

In the retelling of this tale once again

 

anthony forrest