Gold, red, orange, brown.
All the leaves tumbling down.
Crisp winds blow through.
Skies of wonderous blue.
The winds become still,
Not a single quivering hill.
Clouds drift above.
Showering the valley with wet love.
Soft white flakes fall over the town.
Covering the world without a sound.
Crisp, white, frozen flakes
Freezing the land and the lakes.
October days thrust into winter nights.
Soon the town will see Christmas lights.
