As autumn wanes the leaves will fall.
In spite of rain we doubt that’s all.
I lift my eyes and search beyond.
Great gifts remain so near my pond.
Sunday is our day of rest.
That’s why I like this day the best.
Yet my old rake’s about to call.
Since autumn’s leaves have begun to fall.
Perhaps it’s time to move out west?
So what, if it’s cold?
Autumn’s gifts still bring a lift.
Gratitude’s in bloom.
Autumn’s hardy souls.
Hanging on in sleet and snow.
Plucky leaves they are.
Gray skies cloud our view.
November’s cold. Fall’s turned old.
Still, we’re in the pink.
Five days ago, autumn leaves shared their glow.
Then winds came along and changed all to snow.
Could winter be here?
Or maybe just near?
I’ve packed up my flip flops as it’s frostbite I fear.
Fashions fade with time.
Autumn’s dress is out of style.
Winter wool’s in vogue.