Autumn
A mong the ash, the beech, the birch they fall,
U nder the boles of white, beige and gray,
T hickening piles, a golden cabal;
U nvarnished leaves all in disarray.
M audlin, they lack the rouge kissed spark of red
N earby, oaks brown, await the children's tread.
* an acrostic done as an English Sestet
9-29-14
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