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Reminders of Autumn

I walk a lonesome path I once had crossed;
It's quiet on this early morn of frost.
I think of autumn, that she has to leave,
For winter calls, and snow to trees will cleave.
A painting she will leave for me on trees,
Of colored leaves, that flutter with the breeze.
They dance and twirl, then rush to kiss the ground;
Their stunning colors clothe the land around.
This beauty I absorb as I walk on,
Then stop to breathe the air of early dawn.
One scarlet leaf I pick to take with me,
Reminder of what autumn days... can be.

Copyright © Angel Villanueva

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