Autumn
Autumn
Fall
won't last long at all
Red-gold sun touched
cant seem to get enough.
Brisk, breath clear,
closes out another year.
Wind sweeps,
leaves free,
of mooring held fast this year.
Seasons blend
Calling winters breath,
trees do, need their rest.
Wildlife surry
filling their nests.
The white blanket approaches,
Mother earth sighs,
drifting off to sleep.
LGB
Copyright © Lydia Brescia | Year Posted 2014
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