Dance To Her Tune
The daylight doesn't seem as bright as before,
as if the sun is fast fading away.
And Autumn's grey clouds fuel rains that pour;
sending kids scurrying inside to play.
Pretentious colors slowly fade from sight;
until no trace remains; their beauty brief.
And short days relinquish their length to Night;
as trees stand naked, not a single leaf.
All the geese have begun migrating south
along with most of our precious songbirds.
And daunting rumors, spread by word of mouth,
whisper Winter's near in so many words.
Winter's wailing winds will start whistling soon;
and Autumn must learn to dance to their tune.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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