Autumn is such a beautiful month but in some ways it is a tragic season for winter presses hard behind her.
In morning's stillness before the dew drops disappear,
I walk in quiet solitude and know that fall is near.
The grass once sparse has toughened its exterior
and the caterpillars have retreated to their interior.
All of nature seems to sense this season is through
and those hard days of winter are soon to ensue.
My roses have formed their hips and are spent
I wonder how swiftly those days of summer went.
Leaves have all but covered my back walk way.
My once lovely blossoms in their graves now lay.
Yet the day is still warm from the last summer heat
until this seasonal transformation is finally complete.
Could I but keep this image burned upon my brain
then perhaps I would not feel cruel winter's strain.
Alas, such moments are so few and far between
for new sights and sounds wipe that slate clean.
Today I went walking under summer's last sky
and the journey was worth it, I cannot deny.