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13 SIGNS OF AUTUMN













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                1                                   

it begins in late August

a change in the air

soft light pierces my heart

like an arrow

trees are whispering

and the hills turn gold

a hawk soars

I live for these days

final moments of warm

contentment

before the North wind blows

 

                2

hear that dog barking

the wind blowing

the sound of September rain

leaves flutter down

melting color from the trees

and then fade like the cry of distant

geese

 

                3           

abandoned railroad bridge

ancient stone walls

rusting weathervane

cobblestone and ivy

an iron fence surrounds a thicket

of sunflowers

 

                4

clouds, pastel and charcoal

whistle and warbles greet the dawn

a flock of blackbirds swoops

in the woodland

crows call to each other

squawk

steady chattering

tapping on a tree trunk

furious preparations for winter

 

                5

the clock is ticking

moment by moment

leaf by leaf

they float down like butterflies

like heartbeats with colored parachutes

each unique like snowflakes

a perfect carpet of leaves

skirts the tree

sounds crackle as I walk

feeding the fire of fall

 

                6

damp smell

fog in the valley

a light drizzle

not enough to call it winter,

but within a few days

a raven steals the sun

the temperature drops

heavy rain

bare trees

 

                7

a hooting owl and diffuse moon 

preside over a hard frost

no shadow on the sundial

no sound from the lark

a portent of change

 

                8

frost on the pumpkin

early snowfall, late flowers

Queen Anne's lace,

maple leaves and goldenrod

all coexist peacefully

 

                9

scarecrows and cornstalks

harvest dinner

cider and squash

bonfires burn

and shadows hide an orange moon

pumpkins smile and

illuminate the dark

like glowing Cheshire Cats

greeting spirits of the night

 

                10

haystacks in the field

under overcast clouds

a pumpkin man hides in the corn

the swamp is dry

and weeds turn brown

twilight creeps over the farm

 

                11

the play of shadows

against full moon

midnight migrations

was that a witch on her broom?

fly high on your broomstick

soar through the sky

like a dragonfly

 

                12      

a skeleton in the closet rattles his bones

clamoring to get out

for witching hour on Halloween

to play his harp in the fields

 

                13       

a knock on the door...

come in

again...

come in

summer gets up to answer...

and never returns