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there is a certain taste to Autumn
almost alien to Summer's fruition of life
it is a different celebration
where the living having succeeded
fruits succumb to ripened apples
the hazel sweetens its core
gourds of every color 
deck the leaves now browning
life begins its crawl into hibernation
the breath of the cold to come
whispers in trees where leaves
plummet to the end of their use
it heralds a job well accomplished
a time to celebrate the long journey
that burst thru the mud and ice
as Winter left its' toll
and Spring began its wondrous labors
Autumn is a time to rejoice
dream of the snow crocus 
that return year after year
that dutiful call of God
Earth still has a purpose
where mortality labors into immortal
the composts stand ready
to urge the first blade of grass 
to struggle and greet the dawn
nourished by life's rotting flesh
Autumn is death knocking at the door
reminding the granary stored
is the duty of God's gift
to the seasons yet to come

   OKC   9/22

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