On a fall afternoon

The air is brisk and cool.

Moving softy

Hitting my body like a splash of water.

Trees are moving slowly

Moving in sync with their own rhythm.

I listen to the leaves whistle,

every little sound echoes in the open area

From the neighborhood kids playing

Hearing their footsteps stomp along the sidewalk

Getting closer and closer

And then suddenly they come to a stop when they hit your house,

to the old man across the street shutting his car door after work

The smell of a fresh cut lawn lingers in the air,

the grass looks like a fresh cut golf course.

As I sit on the porch,

On this beautiful day

I can picture how in 2 months,

Everything will be white.