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A nip in the air portends the coming days
When summer wanes and autumn returns,
All nature prepares in many diverse ways
Flora and fauna nurturing various concerns,
Even while September’s warm weather stays.

Swirling oak leaves traverse the meadow
‘Twas a sea of golden rod and daisy in season,
Picking up dust, debris like a miniature tornado
Marching straight across with sinister reason,
Stealthily growing, gaining in puffing falsetto.

Will expire when it slams into far vining wall
Leaves gathering along the low fence row,
Piling up as they always do in the chill of fall
They’re protecting tender seeds lying below,
Underneath, where the wild animals crawl

To escape December’s coming bitter end
Where warmth resides beneath the mulch,
Each creature finds in Mother Nature a friend
To provide at the edge of the meadow a gulch
Filled by swirling oak leaves, a place to fend.

written September 1, 2021
for "Quintain (Sicilian)" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Emile Pinet

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