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Our sun is weak In efforts to fill up our sky today It’s bleak, a softness of gray marches in Blanketing our forecast Mild autumn, cool breeze Peaceful, rolling low Dead leaves sweeping around New pavement cracking ground An acoustic dance they tap Out comes a rustling beat Chasing one another gracefully Down our city streets Boisterous hoards of vehicles Slither and hiss Creeping their way through Our city grid Every so often Muscular trumpet engines, become outdone Let’s revert to a momentary handsome jungle scene Watch and listen with care As we relish an obtuse family of king elephant’s, trembling Warring a melancholy parade Through mothers natural bad lands Hammering earths ground With their massive bone crunching feet Wake up; shake off your visionary nod Back to the sounds, back to the sights Back to our tender autumn city nights A Bass filled honorable horn Explodes and stretches Out from an engine train Vividly flexible slithering through our city Bouncing off buildings, rolling down alleys Sliding down rooftops, through slivered windows Into our homes As I sit back and observe This miraculous painting Of a finely stroked autumn day I fall in love with the sights and sounds Which bark and cruise upon her canvas spread Graceful or not Beautiful and ugly Spills or mishaps O thou spices of our lives Beauty has been splashed Upon this land, mighty grand Even to a family of three or four So small a note To the makeup of her….masterpiece composer Are we grateful? Are we selfish full of lingering lust? A low storm hungry, Rolling over grand mountains Nearly black, pushing east A shimmering assault of rain shall be released Once her sky opens up Like soldiers Para jumping From a gang of war planes I render it’s still a bit to warm For a christening of our seasons first snow I guess…… you never know The wildness that can bleed out of our autumn city streets As we plant future angelic seeds
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