This poem takes the form of octal syllabic verse.
The calendar foretells summer
but the trees, fauna and I know
that Autumn is now upon us
in spite of the Gregorian.
Deciduous trees are shedding
their kaleidoscopic, colored
dead on the earthen ground below;
and decaying scents fill the air,
nostrils, the mind with reverie
of indelible yesteryears.
Squirrels burying recent finds,
cheerleading and football practice
recurring signs of its presence.