Autumn on my windowsill,
So quiet, lying, dying..still
Cleverly disguised as change
with brilliant strokes you rearrange
the comfort of the familiar.
We bundle up and brace ourselves
as Summer things are put on shelves
and breathless wait for Winter’s hand,
its shadow cold across the land
in shades of brown and white.
Though Autumn be what you are called…
I know just why we call you Fall!
Round 2 of Nature’s ticker tape parade…..