They come to view, to peep, to gawk.
They come from everywhere.
Shorter days with cooler nights have
coaxed the leaves to re-dress.
It is the rite of the season.
In just a matter of weeks
tinged leaves become radiant in gold.
Maples wear vermillion.
Geraniums push their last bloom.
Corncob and chrysanthemum
decorate yard, porch and patio.
Scarecrows point the way.
Hay is baled. Apples harvested. Cider pressed.
From windows of their coach they see
Golden rod, Queen Ann's lace and wild aster.
Black tree limbs splayed against sapphire skies.
Shards of sunlight illuminate verdant glens
creating chartreuse pockets of wonder.
Hillsides are quilted with the colors of Fall.
Mountain peaks are white with frost and snow.
And now once reddened leaves
Are brown and fallen.
Corn stalks lie brittle in abandoned fields.
Pumpkin and squash linger on vines.
Lonely gardens are gleaned.
It is the harvest month, the time for gathering.
And now fires are lit, pies are baked, quilts are spread.
Intoxicating smells warm hearts.
Jack-o-lantern stare from windows
guarding door and porch from
Ocean waves roil inky blue
grabbing at abandoned beaches
cleansing and carrying
summer treasures to the deep.
And now a different wind blows.
Migrating geese head south.
Brilliant contrails slash an azure sky.
We are warned. Store and nest!
The last kind month is waning.
© Anne Armand.
*photo by dreamstime.com
This is a repost: was seen last on OS on September 29th 2011. Has previously been published in Divine Caroline, The Pepper Tree and The Senior Times.