Whispers of Autumn Fall
They say it's in the wind
restless teases and taunts that seasons are in flux
an escape out of the summer's endless rush,
hush now, if you listen close
you might hear the trees as they host
a last farewell to the flow of this year;
it's a catchy phrase, barely audible
in the blend of fall color palettes applaudable
yellows, oranges, crimson reds as leaves have fled,
they hurry now, rushing into the harvests of October gusts
nature has her schedule as each season must
as spring's summer closes the account trust;
see the skies, the blues on grays
as life proceeds on, fall begins to slip away.
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