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.

Part of the Ten Minutes series… A challenge to write for ten minutes everyday, no matter what. Learn more… Join the movement!

• Autumn
• fall
• nature
• poetry
• seasonal
• sounds