Even inside I
Can tell fall
Is coming not
By color but
By wind licking
Trees and grass
Soon leaves will
Leap like tiny
Spinning parachutes landing
And carpeting everything
Under foot calico
Fleeing from chills
To warming fires
We will huddle
And remember summer
What I don’t
Want is the
Humid summer night
Breeze delicately wafting
Through opened curtains
Bathing me in
Late night chills
What I do
Want is fall
Leaves giving way
To November winds
And taking my
Autumn colors on
Wings to far
Off places setting
Me delicately on
Comforters of green
Where I can
Then take root
Grow and canopy
You many summers
I do enjoy
Beauty is there
Nothing more beautiful
Than a field
Of wild flowers
Fresh and plump
Fully sunned and
Damp with dew
Except perhaps for
That dried bouquet
Kept for years
Simply because with
It comes my
Memories of you
And it’s you
That is my
Most beautiful thing
