The crackling of dry leaves
Rolling over wet asphalt
Damp from the first fall rain
Through my path to the willow trees
Behind the park
The tall golden grass
Towering above my head
Looking down on my questions
My worries, thoughts, and desires
Looking down as I inhale
Taking in the scent of
Cinnamon, pumpkin, and apple
Cornstalk scarecrows
Carved orange faces and
Witches crashed into mailboxes
Turkeys made of popsicle sticks
And leaves trading colors
With the sky
A slight temperature drop in the air,
I feel a familiar snip of Winter
In the chilling wind
Decorations from Halloween
And Thanksgiving
Are put away now
In the fading sunlight
With a sense of foreboding
I sit on my front porch
And wait for the snow…
