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