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Poem

A Blustery Autumn Day

Mischievous bursts of autumn’s laughter
Pulls down the last of the season’s bright artistry
 Carried away on blustery gusts,
  Weaving a tapestry of autumn’s magic
    In tiny whirlwinds of yellow, orange and umber –
     Floating like capricious ghosts into hazy skies
      Waiting for the rains -
Then chasing jubilees of color into dry puddles of drifting leaves,
 	Like flying cartwheels,
Scattering,
Then gathering in again, 
And just for fun 
Lifting fringes of woolen mufflers, warding off the chill,
Taking aim at woolen hats with rowdy gusts
Delighting in their tumbling down broad sidewalks,
Crowded with bright leaves, 
In pirouettes,  
Spinning kaleidoscopes in shades of whimsy,
Careening down the lanes or bustling avenues,
Catching breath again to huff and puff,
Blowing in erratic tempest tarantellas,
And giggle 
Watching footballs taking errant paths,
Tickling summered tree limbs exposed,	
No cover for their naked branches,
With passing gales of glee,
Resounding with the call of cornucopia’s horn 
To gather in the Indian corn, pumpkins and ripe wheat
Before the coming days of icy storms
Blow hard with unrelenting icy currents
In winter squalls returning.

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