Leaving Autumn At Its Beginning

Leaves, with crinkled edges, are little paper thin boats. Trees hulking have specters' arms. They clasp the snowball in the sky. Silver pinpricks are cast above the wilderness. They pierce the tar colors that ink the night. Porches watch with ginger squares. Man-made light view the stroller, as she strides quickly within Olive shadows. A heavy, wise mien is seen through the wooden frames. She sits, she is waiting as Winter beckons the soulful whispering of Autumn.