Autumns’ Awning


The half-moon’s light bathes my window

Promising the season’s first frost

The night is deeply still

Reverently quiet

The crickets’ and peepers’

hums and murmurs dormant

Squirrels, black and gray

have fattened up for another day

Wind whispers and whirls

Leaves tumble and twirl

Needles of the pine carpet

The drive and front hill

A warm slick cushion

against the hardness and the coming chill

The back forty cut one last time

Laid bare in verdant green and burnished gold

October: an integrated season

            Deep reds

            Fiery oranges

            Bursting yellows

        Beauty’s last breath

As the purgatory of November

descends too soon