Autumn

The cool air from the wet grass,
the trees in a soft breeze.
Leaves twirling making pass.
All while the sky looks with ease.

Too warm for a coat, to cold to go bare.
Of summer and winter, it's a mix.
When the wind moves along with no certain care.
All while the night is still crisp.

Flowers slowly dying, making plee.
leaves faintly changing color.
Two small animals climbing up a tree.
And raking leaves, one child with his brother.

This is the season with so much time.
Where the airs not too cold and the light isn't dim.
The only happens when to seasons combine,
and make one place called Autumn.

Copyright 2001 Joseph Michael Egan