Autumn

Leaves beyond scarlet and orange, Now sienna, umbre, and ochre, Drift into piles against the fence As autumn reaches to winter, And frost blackens the last greens Left in the barren waste of garden. But in the air, the aromas of fall, Smoke of bonfires, apples roasting, Cinnamon smell of holiday baking. Pots of chrysanthemums catch the eye, And toothy pumpkins with yellow eyes Leer at passersby from porch steps. Let the cold come – we know it will, But for now we’ll breathe the frosty air And roll in leaf piles on the lawn ‘Til cheeks are red and eyes are bright. Later, inside, we’ll drink steaming cocoa And roast marshmallows by the fire.