Autumn's Breath Brings Grief
Autumn's breath makes the willow weep with grief,
for her leaves dangle as brisk winds begin to blow.
She cries for their demise, whose lives were too brief.
Fall is the season when sunlight casts an amber glow.
Ochre leaves fall sorrowfully from trees without a sound,
landing aground and in streams where cool waters flow.
Crimson and russet, some have withered and browned.
For them, Spring and Summer have elapsed far too fast.
The evolution of seasonal changes is quite profound.
I too, am senescent. Many years of life I've amassed,
but do not carve my epitaph upon a granite stone.
I still cling to life, and my demise has not been forecast.
When my season finally ends, I will not moan or groan.
Autumn's chill breath will not sever me from my limb
until there's been a harvest of all the seeds I've sown.
Even when my eyes fail and my vision grows dim,
I'll give thanks that my life's cup was filled to the brim.
July 14, 2022
Five Stanza Terza Rima Contest
Sponsored by L Milton Hankins
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