The Autumn

September 10, 2008
By
I slice through ever-graying skies
Astride a windswept steed, coal black
Glisten in the golden sun
His lather does upon his back.
For swift as Mercury we’ve been
But once are seasons wound, ‘tis why
Our message rides fast-changing winds
Though tentatively does arrive.
I woo the leaves along the way
They blush a crimson bright as blood
Their vanity shall cost them though
For brown they’ll die hard-pressed in mud.
Their vivid shade, a warning, will,
Alert the mortals to prepare
For harvested must be the fields
And the orchard trees picked bare.
Afore first frost should veil the land
The frozen threads my cloak hath left
That fray and solidify the dew
To flora an impending death.
My tricky minions do their tasks
And take pleasure in their spite
Taunting things like scarves and hair
Taking glee in hands they bite.
Chill’s the message they engrain
Announcing summer’s come and gone
Warmth is just a memory
Anticipate nights cold and long.
My whispers in one’s ear presage
My bitter-sweet cologne will too
That with a foreboding sense
Winter, winter’s coming soon.





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