Poem: Autumn Song
The lemon-white of the sun
glides up over the tree line
flashes of burning white
through the leaves
Things begin to glow:
plots of dying grass
buttercream siding
dusty gray window screens
The breeze brings a noisy chorus
crackling brown leaves
grayish old branches creaking
pebbles carried along the concrete
But above us
the clouds move in silence
drifting through the blue
coming and going
And tiny seed pods fall from the sky
flittering their delicate wings
Birds squawk
cicadas chirp
and I sit
Autumn sings
and I am listening.
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