September From My Window

A blaze of orange sunlight As it sinks below the ground, Shines through silver fleecing. Shadows soon to be abound. Lights spring up on houses. No children play in the street. Tucked up in bed they'll soon be; The Sandman ready to meet. The songs of the winged ones fading. Darker, it seems are the trees; Holding nestled the winged ones, From danger they're kept free. Between this and golden sunset, Lay the mountains, strong and lank. Through it flows a river, Contained by its muddy banks. Darker and darker the sky gets, As the night lanturn begins to crawl. All as I see from my window, In this beautiful month, in Fall.