Veins of warm colors crawl along the green,

Consuming chunks of sweet smelling things,

Crumble to the ground and crunch beneath your feet.


For when a certain spice swirls into your new cold nose,

And Earth shifts for clouds to house those crows,

Ring the bell for summer’s gone so the blooms begin to close.


Hear the wind sing low in tune along the cracks of walls,

The tired raise a brow as a cheer begins to crawl,

A sprawl of lights, a sprawl of flights, when the leaves begin to fall.


Children stow their mischief for he will soon be on his way,

But first skins of horror freights will strut to doors beyond the day,

Then hands will hold around the bird while Uncle Joe whiskeyly folds to pray.


Two toasty boots around the bend feel a warm kiss to the cheek,

This old rainbow melts into a warm whirl of changing colors week by week,

A new type of Spring of worn colors sprinkles trees as they prepare for winter’s peak.


Beyond rustling streets a beauty hugs the air descending to a peaceful dark,

Brewing cinnamon sticks, pumpkin pies, and fireplaces spark,

I bade the sun goodbye but for this new love of mine I heal my broken heart.