I think autumn is my favourite time of year.
A few last warm days
A wondrous display of colour
I savour the softness of the falling leaves, the mist, the first frost and then the snow
Winter on the way, but still a long way to go.
When golden autumn light has settled quiet and cold
There, like a bird, still on the tree
Was that lonesome leaf, no longer gold
But curly and brown and dry and old
One by One these leaves will fall
Nothing I do will make them stay
High above glistening in the fading summer light
Why has it got to be this way