Becoming attuned to autumn.
Evenings no longer taking a stretch.
Aware of a darker veil at morning.
Ushered in by autumn's breath.
The low light at evening is softer.
I meander winding woodland paths.
Fluttering leaves of beautiful browns
Under footfall give us laughter as we
Lift armfuls then let them scatter.
Fall is a time of harvest.
And preparing for dark days to come.
Light the fire and let's all gather.
Lingering long after that moon has shone.
Copyright © JEAN MURRAY | Year Posted 2018