The trees twitter and dance
waving
and tightly gripping
their beloved leaves
until wind comes and
Orange is f


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to black black earth
It's a damp and cold and unpleasant new home
but waiting


quietly until scraped together
by sharp prongs
or weighed down and SUFFOCATED
with blankets of white
Ghosts and gremlins traipsing through

dragging pillowcases
Crunching.
This season is eerie- green
trees are now black
knotted, naked.
Smiling crooked grins and
reaching out with knarled fingers
to grasp bitter wind
But children dont notice- Pink
cheeks and chilly hands are
used to it
and they play.
This is autumn.