Autumn
by Karen A. Freeman
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This is my season, Fall. I was born here in the dying windblown leaves, a swirl of brilliant colors in the crisp air, saying good-bye until spring. When rising with the sun is rising before the sun and watching the parade of colors and birds like a marching band sing greetings to old sol, And rains cool the summer swelter. And winds shout in the trees knocking of leaves as they run through in reckless abandon. This is my season, Fall. And my favorite for the cool crisp morning and the changing scenes that come in October. |
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Graphics by Moriah's Web Jewels
©1986 Karen A. Freeman