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Autumn Coming

Autumn coming 

I smell her beyond the sultry air 

I taste her just past the summer breeze 

I call to her 

I beg and plead 

To take the summer sun 

That beats down orange and gold

On the grass and leaves 

And replace it with her touch 

Upon the trees 

I beg of her 

I plead 

To take the mosquitos away 

To break their bodies 

And rid the world of fangs

That bring disease 

I long for the crispness 

Upon the dark and day 

That floats on the air 

That reaches out and encircles all 

A tendril snaking through the grass 

A whisper in the water's edge 

A fingerling into the place 

Where the glass meets the windowsill 

I beg I plead 

But Autumn does not move 

She stays in sight 

But just out of reach 

My fingers strain out 

But touch only the flames of summer 

Dry brown grass 

Sweat and flies 

But I feel in my bones 

Her breath is on my neck 

She is near 

She is coming 

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She is here.

The last dragonflies are flying home.
The birds are setting off on their journey,
and she tucks nature in
beneath a warm, cozy blanket of leaves
to sleep and dream

to dream of cold, glittering crystals
drifting down from the sky,
and of the warmth that fills you
when spring melts
the icy powdered sugar
and the year begins anew,

only to long, after a warm summer,
for a colorful, cozy autumn.



💛🍂🍁

by Ziggy Drown_ed; ; Report