When the once green leaves transform to brighter colors,
And the air, once warm, takes on a slight chill,

When the sun dips below the horizon earlier,
And the serene surroundings seem still,

When the brittle leaves crackle underfoot,
And the crisp air smells of apples baking,

When the leaves turn the branches to fiery crimson,
And you see people working outside raking,

When you pull out the warm fuzzy sweaters,
And watch the leaves drift to the ground,

When Thanksgiving comes around,
And the birds cease to sound,

That’s when you know
That its Fall

When the once bright leaves shrivel and die,
And the trees become skeletons with no leaves at all,

When the chill becomes biting,
And the frost comes to call,

When the persistent coughs set in,
And the stars come to visit earlier still,

When the snow blankets the earth,
And the ice fails to thrill,

When the squirrel has hidden all his acorns,
And the bear is holed up in his den,

When the birds fly away time and again,
And the cold’s here to stay

That’s when you know,
Autumn ends that day